


Two Halves of a Whole

by nano_monster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blood and Injury, Consensual Sex, Doctor Castiel (Supernatural), Drama, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Homophobia, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Rape/Non-con, Police Officer Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nano_monster/pseuds/nano_monster
Summary: A faithful meeting between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, two people broken by a cruel world, might just be exactly what they were waiting for. Unbeknownst to them their connection runs deeper than either of them might think and very strange things begin to happen from the first time they touch.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	1. Whatever You Want

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is actually my first work, so I am anxious and excited about this! So let me know what you think, I don't bite I promise.  
> So I know I used a lot of warnings and maybe off-putting tags, but I swear at the very least this first chapter is totally harmless. But guys, I live for The Drama, so don't get to cosy!  
> I don't have a beta, so if you find any mistakes they are yours to keep and treasure!
> 
> I've been out of shower gel yesterday and found this little sample bottle in the bottom of my drawer to use. It smells like the most artificially delicious berries. Unfortunately that is not what it tastes like.... I made a mistake.

_Once upon a time, long long time ago God created humans as beautiful and powerful beings. Their souls were a force to be reckoned with, for it allowed them to do wonderful things. Some humans were creators themselves, bringing to the world creatures of their imagination, beings we know as animals, living things we call plants or inanimate things like stone and land._

_Others were healers, mending the flaws of the creators and soothing all of their souls with music, art, philosophy and wisdom. And than there were the changers, inventing fire, bending things already created to their will and combining them into new things._

_For a time, all was well and the humans were content with the earth and their gifts. But then a changer became greedy. His idea was that his kind deserved more, deserved everything. Who was this God who demanded their worship and praise? Although He never showed himself, His word was rule and echoed down from the heavens. The changer rebelled, he wanted freedom from their maker, no matter what it entailed. And so his word spread, first the other changers rallied to his side, then the creators. It took them some time but at last the healers also consented to his ideas._

_They begged to the heavens but no word would come. Building frustration and anger led the humans to begin the charge against heaven, they used their god-given powers to reach higher and higher until they were almost at the gates.  
It was _ _at_ _this moment, that God decided it was enough. If they wanted freedom to decide, he would grant it to them. But not without cost. Every single human soul he split in two_ _and gave each part a body of it’s own. Their powers together with their souls divided, dwindled to almost nothing or were gone. Their memories wiped He spread them at random all over the world. It was the beginning of a sheer endless search for their other piece, a half that could make them complete.  
Love and heartbreak were born.  
_

_But once in a blue moon the fitting pieces found each other. And although their original power could never be restored, if they were somehow able to form a connection, a pair, it could give rise to_ _something special_ _._

∞

Castiel is sitting behind his desk frowning down at the papers in front of him. It is already dark outside, as always work had been tough today and he still wasn’t done. The office’s only light source is a small desk lamp, just enough to read through the files laying before him. There isn’t much in his office like personal items, only a silver-framed picture of him and his family at his graduation. Before everything had gone to hell.

His white frock is hanging loosely over his shoulders, revealing his white button-down underneath it, a blue tie hanging slightly dishevelled around his neck. If he’s not around his patients he sees no need to straighten up his appearance, and this paperwork is pulling on his nerve strings.

Again and again he keeps scanning through Ms. Geller’s file, willing there to be more information, something he might have missed. He had already read it about a thousand times, every test result, every miniature detail, he could probably recite by heart by now. And still it makes no sense to him.

Exasperated he ruffles through his hair, most likely making it even more dishevelled than his natural state if that is even possible. Castiel wants to help this woman so badly, but he doesn’t have any idea what’s even wrong with her. The cause of her ailments keeps being a mystery that he refuses to give up on.

A cheery knock on the door startles him out of deep concentration. Without waiting for an invitation Balthazar lets himself in, shooting him a grin, that is being met with a frown.

“Cassie, it’s enough, you need some air.” Balthazar seizes him up. “Have you looked in the mirror recently? Some of the homeless people I worked with today looked more put together than you!”

Castiel groanes and buries his face in his hands. “Go away Balt.” But the other man just keeps grinning. “No can do sweetheart. Some of us are heading out tonight and I will hear no excuses, you are coming.”

He lets his gaze travel down Castiel’s appearance again. “But first you will get cleaned up darling. There is nothing you can do by moping around again tonight. I will text you the address. Take a shower and change here, I know if I let you go home you will make up a reason for not showing. Don’t make me come over and drag you out.”And with that he turns around, leaving the door open behind him, knowing full well Castiel can not keep working with an open door.

He sighs as he flips the file closed and switches off the lamp. He is too tired to argue with the man and maybe, just maybe, he needs a break. Castiel isn’t sure if Balthazar’s kind of break is what he has in mind, but the man might just be right. There is a weird pull in his chest as he looks down on his phone to read the address. Weird. He hasn’t been there before, there was nothing to be excited or apprehensive about. Closing the door behind him he locks it and heads to the locker rooms for a shower.

∞

“Dude, what are you doing on my computer?”

Dean hastily flippes the laptop closed to look up and smile at his brother. “Hey Sammy, when did you get home?”

Sam squints down at him. “Just now, and I need my computer. Why do you even need it, use your own!”

“But mine’s slow!”, he complains. Sam throws his hands in the air. “Dammit Dean it wouldn’t be if you’d stop watching so much porn!” He jerks the laptop out of his brother’s hands and scowls at him. “You do remember that I have a study meeting here later right?”

The puzzled look on his brothers face tells him everything. “Dude you agreed to leave the flat to us!”

A mischievous smile appears on Dean’s lips. “You mean a study _date_ with Eileen, right?” He winks. Sam groans in response.

“You are unbelievable. We have a test tomorrow, I told you that. Now _please_ just make yourself scarce, ok? I really need this.” His eyes become pleading.

Frikkin’ puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go, don’t worry. Been meaning to get some soon anyway.” Dean wiggles his eyebrows suggestively which earns him another groan from his little brother.

“Just _go._ ” Sam resigns. “Let us have at least ‘till midnight, ok?”

“Don’t worry Sammy, you don’t have to wait up for me.” Another smirk. He loves messing with Sam. Dean sees it as his brotherly duty to make him as uncomfortable as possible. “You know ‘cause I will definitely find someone to…”

“LEAVE!” Dean ducks the pencil thrown at him and laughs.

“Say hi to Eileen from me.” He makes the corresponding hand gesture to the greeting.

Despite being annoyed as hell Sam cannot suppress a smile. His brother is a jackass, but he’s great.

Snatching up the keys to the Impala Dean dons his leather jacket and closes the door behind him.

So, where should he go? Weighting all his options he suddenly feels the need to head to the Roadhouse tonight. It’s gonna be packed on a Friday night, but hey, he’s not gonna be alone there, Jo’s working.

Turning the ignition he feels exited for tonight. Maybe something good’s on the horizon.

∞

The sound of glasses startles Castiel out of staring blankly into space. It’s been a while since he had the time for an evening out, but now that he is here, he cannot find it in him to enjoy it.

It all seems so... meaningless. Tedious. Why he thought this evening to be exciting before he left he cannot fathom.

His peers around him are chatting animatedly, the warm light of the bar they chose enveloping their smiling faces. It was all idle small talk, Alfie talking proudly to Hael about his promotion to lab assistant, obviously trying to impress her. Balthazar and Gabriel trying to outwit each other in a game they in his opinion should call ‘find the most inappropriate synonym’. Hannah chatting about her work in management with Tessa. He can see her glancing over from time to time, which he’s adamantly trying to ignore.

Hannah has been gunning for him for a while now and as nice as she is, he could not help feeling uncomfortable about it. Maybe Balthazar was right and he is just not interested at all any more. Hell, it has been years since his last relationship and that did not go down well, thank you very much.

The thought brings a frown to his face and he looks down into his glass. It is some sickly pink sweet alcoholic drink Gabriel shoved into his hand as soon as he arrived. After the first sip he had decided that he would never let Gabriel order anything else for him ever again. Absent-mindedly he swirls the glass around and watches the high sugar content liquid paint droplets on the inside of the glass.  
  


Human social interaction had always been a problem he can’t seem to overcome. Well, his brooding disposition may have not done him any favours there either. Even now, all grown up and working for a big hospital, he kees being called weird or awkward from time to time. Each blind date he grudgingly let Balthazar set him up with, before he has had enough, has had one or another colourful variation of these words for him. It doesn’t affect him as much as it had in the past, but it pretty much turned him away from any desire of meeting new people.

Castiel was content being by himself, books and work being enough to entertain him and his cat was still the best company in his opinion. His aunt would most likely call him an old spinster, if she were still alive. And yet he had let Balthazar talk him into coming here.  
  


With a sigh he pushes back his chair and approaches the bar, he definitely needs something a lot less toothache inducing. Trying to get the bartender’s attention proves to be more difficult. The young Blonde swoops from customer to customer, barely taking notice of his slightly raised hand. Still, he doesn’t want to hurry her, even though it is beginning to get frustrating.  
  
“You have got to be more forward than that dude if you want Jo to serve you”, says a slightly amused voice next to his ear.

Turning his head the first thing Castiel notices about the stranger are his green eyes, shining with a golden twinkle in the bar light. Taking in the man’s short sandy hair and muscly build together with those dreamy eyes framed by long lashes Castiel can’t help but think that he is gorgeous. His full, sultry lips are curled up in a smirk, shoulder brushing against him as he squeezes himself in next to Castiel in front of the bar. At a loss for words Castiel just stares at the man, nervous heat building up inside, as he watches him wave over the counter.  
“Heya smurf! Don’t let a man dry out here, get me and my friend a couple a’ beers, would ya?”  
The bartender flips him off while reaching for his order. “Easy there dickhead, you’re lucky I’m swamped or I’d come over there and kick your ass.”

There is no real heat in her words as she sets down the bottles in front of them, turning right around to get on with her work.  
The stranger turns to him then, smirk turning into an honest to god grin as he takes in Castiel’s baffled look. “You gonna thank me for that or just keep staring at me all night?”  
  


Awkwardly aware of his own inability to think of anything witty to say he stumbles over the words. “Th… Thank you.” He just now remembers to lower his gaze and takes a swig from the bottle in front of him. People tend to find his gaze unsettling and he can’t even blame them.

“’Ur welcome. Gotta keep the handsome ones coming back here. God knows this place needs some more eye candy from time to time”, he winks. “I’m Dean.”  
A flirty handsome extrovert, making his insides flutter like mad. Could only be seconds until he fucks that up.

“Castiel”, he says glancing at the man again shyly. “How much do I owe you?”  
Dean laughs. It is a deep laugh, reaching all the way to his eyes and reverberating in Castiel’s chest. “Man, you don’t owe me nothin’, I’m happy to help and I get to treat you and your baby blues. But if you would like to make it up to me you could join me for that beer?” His brows lift with the question, he looks at him with a hopeful expression.

Even though Castiel can’t fathom how his company could be any kind of enjoyable to such an interesting person, he consents.

They settle for a table not to far from the bar and Castiel’s colleagues. Dean spares Castiel any awkward silences by getting right back to talking.

“So, Castiel huh? I think I heard that one before, it’s an angel name right? Look at me acting all cool and smart! Prob’ly just stuck ‘cause Sammy keeps muttering down lists while studying. Sammy’s my brother by the way, kid’s in college, learning about ancient knowledge and stuff. Dunno much about it, but I take care of him. What about you, any siblings?”

Such a bright person. God Castiel would give anything for a bit of Balthazar’s wit right now.

“Yes, a sister, Anna. But she lives back home. Do you come here often?” Smooth Castiel, very smooth.

This is gonna be a big laugh for Gabriel and Balthazar. He can already see them glancing over. Yes, he will definitely be pressed to tell this story later.  
  
Dean just smiles. “Yeah actually. See, Jo over there, we basically grew up together, her mother owns the place. Doesn’t mean I get free drinks though, so don’t go wild.” He laughs at his own joke. There is a small smile tugging at Castiel’s lips. For a second he thinks he sees Dean’s eyes flickering down to his lips before the man continues.

“So what do you do? I’m a cop, all about saving people, you know the drill. But don’t worry, I’m off duty so just go wild if you want to.” Another wink.

Did he just chuckle? Castiel was pretty sure he just chuckled. The thought of him going ‘wild’ seems just ridiculous. This man has a way about him that puts him at ease. Maybe he has to recall this rule about not wanting to meet new people for today.  
“I’m a doctor, so you could say we have a similar disposition for saving people as you so compellingly put it.”

Dean, visibly pleased that he has gotten this reaction out of Castiel, is leaning closer across the table. “Well look at the two of us, like a child’s perfect career dreams come true!”

It earns him another smile from Castiel. “You could say that we are both catering to a certain stereotype, that is true.”

Now it is Dean’s turn to smile at him. “You have quite the way of talkin’, don’t cha’?”

Ah, there it is. Castiel’s smile falters and he lets his gaze fall. Something always puts people off about him. Apparently his speech mannerisms will do it with this one. He has been called aloof and snobbish because of them before. But Dean is quick to take up on the change in atmosphere. He reaches across the table, and lifts his chin gently with his fingers. The touch is almost electrifying and Castiel’s lips part in a silent gasp. Green eyes meet his own.

“Man, I don’t mean that in a bad way, seriously! It’s different, but I like it. Makes you even more charming.”

Castiel doesn’t get to answer, for the other man’s phone rings with Zeppelin’s ‘Ramble On’. Dean drops his hand and frowns at it.  
“I’m sorry, I really have to take this. Don’t go anywhere Cass!” And with that he is gone, heading to a more quiet part of the bar.

He called him Cass. As far as nicknames go, Castiel quite likes this one. Or maybe he just likes it because of the man who came up with it. Either way, he is still smiling. Maybe, just maybe, he has been found by someone special here.

Still lost in his thoughts, he startles as a hand lands on his shoulder from behind. A big bear of a man is standing behind him, looking down at him with an odd look on his face.

“Did I hear you say you’re a doctor?”, he grumbles.

Surprised he nods the affirmative. “Do you need something?”

The man’s eyes dart around the room before he answers. “Yeah, my girlfriend suddenly collapsed out back. She is conscious now, but won’t let me call an ambulance. No insurance. Said I would look for help back in here and heard you talkin’. Can you help her?”  
  


He is on his feet as soon as the man stops talking. “Take me to her. I can’t guarantee anything but I will try to help her.”

The man motions for him to follow. They go to the back of the bar, through a black fire escape. As soon as the door falls close, Castiel realizes his mistake. He raises his hands protectively as a fist connects with his stomach.


	2. Have You Ever Seen the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faithful meeting between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, two people broken by a cruel world, might just be exactly what they were waiting for. Unbeknownst to them their connection runs deeper than either of them might think and very strange things begin to happen from the first time they touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I guess I'm kinda on schedule with this chapter here despite having to deal with Christmas and my cat getting ill. (Don't worry, she is recovering just fine, she's a strong little thing. (And I love her to bits! <3))  
> Yay to me I guess :D  
> Hope u guys enjoy! Again I don't have a beta, so if you find any mistakes they are yours to keep and treasure!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: (do not read if u don't want spoilers)  
> -Homophobic Language  
> -Violence and Minor Injury  
> -Mental Illness, Anxiety

Dean frowns at his phone after hanging up on Bobby. No, _Police Chief Singer_ as the old man constantly reminded him to call him at work. Normally he wouldn’t mind much if Bobby cut an evening off short, especially to assign him a juicy case like this one. But today he doesn’t want to leave. Like _at all_.

This man he just met, _Castiel_ , the name melts like warm liquid on his tongue, he felt something there. Something special. Which was ridiculous, ‘cause they had just met. And Dean was just aiming for a quick fuck as usual.

And yet, from the moment he had spotted the guy across the room he had been hooked. Messy dark hair, a lean but muscular physique and those eyes. Those fucking blue eyes. Deep and dark and perfect. Like sapphires.

Oh god, what the hell was he thinking about?? Dean Winchester wasn’t poetic or some shit like that, he wasn’t cut out for this romance stuff. And yet his thoughts are running away from him in embarrassing ways. He rubs his hand across his face.

Looking down at the hand, he remembers the way it had felt to touch Cass. Like an electric current running through his whole body. He shivers at the memory.

But now he has to leave. He better get back to the man and get his number first though. Bobby had had a lot to say, he had left Cass alone for about fifteen minutes he thinks, checking his watch. Dean hopes to god that the man hasn’t left yet. Or left with someone else…

Apparently he has no such luck. Their table is empty and glancing over to were Cass’s colleagues were, they are gone too, most likely together with him. Dean curses under his breath. Maybe he could ask Jo to keep an eye out for him? Glancing over he sees that the blonde is still pretty busy, he’ll just shoot her a text about it. As embarrassing as it is, Dean would have to explain it and suffer her teasing if he wanted her help.

Now he was second guessing this decision.

A deep sigh escapes him. In any case he has no time to ponder on it. Dean hasn’t even made detective yet, but Bobby trusts him with this, he has to hurry down to location. Maybe he could return tomorrow? God, he sounds like a stalker. Hasn’t even gotten the guys last name yet or if the dude was even seriously interested.  
  
Snatching up his jacket he waves goodbye to Jo and hurries to the Impala. He has to focus on his task now, he could still keep on worrying later.

∞

The first hit takes him by surprise and the shock makes him buckle over. At least it wasn’t his face, that would have been far messier. It takes Castiel just a second to compose himself but he stays hunched over to asses the situation.

Including the man who led him out here, he counts four pairs of feet, one pair belonging to a woman. He forces himself to stay calm, he can already feel the anger rising. Loosing control in bad situations was definitely one of his many vices He refuses to be a victim. Not again, not ever. But there may still be a way to solve this situation amicably. Without more violence taking place. So he has to keep it together.

But a mocking voice cuts through his resolve.

“Hey there faggot. Did you really think you could just flirt in the middle of _our_ bar and get off scotch free?”, the woman sneers at him.

“My friends and I don’t like you flaunting your sickness so openly here. Your friend’s just getting off without a beating ‘cause Dawn here heard him say he’s a cop. The filth they let into the force these days.” She spit on the floor. “No such luck for you buddy. My boys here will take the greatest care of you, so you’ll never think of doing this disgusting thing around here again.”

Her hatred seeps through every word and Castiel can hear the men jeering at him, edging her on.

White hot anger is starting to bleed through his veins, mainly at the insult to Dean, but he has not lost control. Not yet. Castiel straightens himself up and stares at his attackers. The glint in his eyes is starting to get dangerous.

“You should reconsider this. I know for a fact that this bar is not yours, so I feel it to be a bit presumptuous to talk as if you own it.”

He will not believe that people who are friends with Dean would condone such behaviour. Just out of spite he adds “And what can be seen as disgusting lies very much in the eye of the beholder I would like to think.”

The narrowing of her eyes show Castiel that the woman caught on to his ridicule of her words, although the men seem a bit confused by his manner of speaking.

“Oh, we got ourselves a pompous comedian here boys. The sissy seriously thinks he can talk back to us! What do you think we should do about that?” One of the men is smiling at her and deliberately cracking his knuckles. She smiles back.

“Splendid idea James. I’ll leave him all to you, teach him what we do to his kind around here.” As if she hadn’t already told him that they were going to beat him up. Or try at least.

The men start to advance on Castiel, who has already gone into fighting stance. He had sworn to himself that he would never be a victim again. And he had not been idle, making sure he was equipped to handle a situation just like this.

Dodging the first fists flying his way, he keeps moving, making sure they would not get the chance to corner him. Another punch is coming his way, but he manages to block it and keep the attackers hand there. The man goes down from the pain of a backhand jab against his neck, executed with full force and precision to immobilize him.

The second one proves to be a tougher opponent, it is the one who lured him outside into the alley. He has to block and duck a few flings of his before he gets his chance and Castiel feels the last man trying to get into his blind spot. His opponent’s hand scrapes Castiel’s forehead as he ducks down into a deep stance, landing a punch directly between his legs. No stupid heroism during a fight like this, he had learned that early on. If you got a chance to go for the nuts, do it. The man buckles over onto the concrete, but now Castiel is bleeding and it is impairing his vision. Head wounds are troublesome in a fight.

As if they had sensed his predicament, the door to the bar opens and his colleagues are storming out, Gabriel emerging first with Balthazar hot on his heels. At the sight of them the remaining two attackers turn tail. Seeing the state Castiel is in Balthazar immediately aims to give chase, but Tessa is holding him back. “What the hell happened??”, Gabriel bellows.

Hannah has already reached Castiel and is starting to gently wipe away the blood with a tissue, as he grunts “Homophobes.”

The expression on their faces can only be described as shocked and disgusted. Hannah stops her hand in mid air and looks at him with a mixture of concern and disbelief. She avoids his eyes and keeps working as Gabriel makes an angry noise.

“We should call the cops.”

Castiel really likes Alfie, but the boy does not know what he is saying. Looking around it should be obvious that Castiel would not get off with just a warning, self defence or no self defence. Fortunately Balthazar is more sensible.

“No can do kiddo, they would just arrest Castiel for assault and battery. This is a he said, she said situation and the way Cassie kicked their asses I sincerely doubt they will be back.” He looks at Castiel knowingly.

“Although I would like to make sure you get home safe anyway, if it is all the same to you Cassie.”

Castiel nods. “I would appreciate it Balt. Let’s leave before anyone else shows up and I would like to have a look at my wound sooner rather than later.”

Hannah frowns. “Which wound? Have you been hurt somewhere?”

Castiel looks at her in bewilderment. He raises his hand to his forehead and starts “This right here, what else…”, he trails off as his fingers brush against the wound.

Except that there is no wound. Smooth skin, where ever he touches. His fingers come off slightly red from the blood, but the scratch has all but disappeared. Did he injure one of the man in the fight and just think it was his blood trickling into his eyes? He can’t remember grazing them at all. Castiel’s gaze falls onto the men on the ground, one still groaning, one unconscious. He cannot see any blood on them at all.

“Let’s get out of here.”, he says and the others nod in assent.

∞

Dean’s exhausted. The breaking and entering case he got assigned had taken place at a rich guy’s house and been all kinds of trouble. The guy’s wife had been just short of hysterical and the man couldn’t even be bothered to return home from his trip. It was very irritating to talk to a pompous, I-am-right-and-you-are-wrong kind of guy through a video screen. Dean knows that it was major to be able to bypass the shiny new top-of-the-shelve security system the guy had installed and he’s friends with the major, blah blah blah. But these people had been grating on his nerves almost the whole night with their ridiculous demands to magically solve the crime like yesterday. If Benny hadn’t been there with him he would surly have blown a fuse.  
  
It was clear to him that the thieves were pros, his perimeter sweep hadn’t turned up any obvious traces. Not even a footprint. Eventually he had found the way they entered, but it was unsettling how immaculately this had been planned. Husband away, wife at a gala, dog sedated, window opened somehow from the inside, security system disabled remotely. This is troubling and Bobby, sorry _Chief Singer_ , had agreed with him. There should be more capable people on this, with more experience. But Bobby had insisted that he and Benny were equipped to handle it, putting his faith in them and making Dean very anxious about disappointing him. The chief had even dangled his promotion to Detective in front of him as an incentive, which somehow just made everything even worse.

He needs sleep. It’s already the early morning hours and just now he had reached home. Dean falls into bed fully clothed. As he begins to doze off, he remembers blue eyes and the text he had already composed but not yet sent to Jo. Too tired to think about the consequences any more he presses send and slips off to sleep. Benny will wake him tomorrow to pick him up. Crime sure doesn’t care about his weekend off.

∞

The weekend had gone by fast and Castiel finds himself up and about at an ungodly hour on Monday morning, scuffling through the corridors of St. Peter’s General Hospital with a huge cup of espresso in hand and a particularly bad mood. The good will was there to become an early riser and go running or something akin to that, but his body somehow never warmed to the idea. And the past nights had been draining to say the least. The nightmares have returned and he kept tossing and turning every night. The only reprise he got were short dreams of green eyes and strong hands holding him close, but they never lasted.

How the hell was it possible to miss someone you just met once? He had not dared to return to The Roadhouse for fear of meeting his attackers again. It is ridiculous, he knows that. He is perfectly capable of defending himself, but inside he is trembling. Balthazar had seen him home, anticipating a break down but he had shut the door on him, not wanting anyone to fuss over him.

But then Castiel had woken in the middle of the night to his heart racing and his breathing hitched. Suddenly afraid beyond measure he had hurried and barricaded himself in the bathroom. Making a kind of nest with his blankets in the tub, he only felt safe behind two locks and facing a door he could watch. He kept shivering despite the warmth. It had taken him ages to get his breathing steady again and even longer to get back to sleep.

No wonder he had opted for driving to work this morning instead of using the bus. Even if the bus stop was basically in front of his doorstep. Castiel hopes that the uneasiness will subside soon. He does not want to take any pills again. All that was in the past and he just wants to push through this momentary flare-up and get on with his life.

Walking towards his office he passes Balthazar without noticing until his friend tries to grab him. Instinctively he pulls back and puts quite the distance between them, already in fighting stance.

His friend quickly puts up both hands. “Woah there Cassie, I’m not gonna get smacked now, am I? Hold you’re horses, I come in peace!”  
Castiel sights and relaxes. “Sorry Balt, you startled me.”

Balthazar narrows his eyes and scrutinizes him. They know each other for far too long already and Castiel is pretty sure that his friend can see that that wasn’t all that is going on, but thankfully he drops the topic. For now.

“Saaaay, care to join me and Gabriel at lunch? He said he’d pay”, he added with a smile.

Castiel searches him for a moment. Since when did Gabriel pay for anyone but himself?

He sights again. To hell with it, he might as well go for the free food, it was a nice change to get something other than cafeteria food once in a while. And maybe his friends would be able to lighten his mood.

In retrospect he should have looked the gift horse in the mouth. He will blame his fatigue.

Barely even sitting down in the little café Gabriel favours for lunch they practically pounce on him.

“You have not told us about you’re Prince Charming yet, dear. You seemed quite enamoured by him on Friday before… well, before you left the table.” Gabriel is trying for tactful. Interesting. Castiel looks over at Balthazar but his friend pointedly looks away. Seems like he let something slip to keep Gabriel in line. Castiel doesn’t know if he should be mad or thankful.

“Yeah, well, we didn’t get far in our conversation. And with no means of contact it is definitely not going anywhere, so I do not understand why you would even ask.” He frowns at them both across the table.

“See, that is where you are wrong Cassie. You are going to owe us big time for being such grand friends and meddling in your previously almost non existent love life.”

Balthazar slips a piece of paper across the table and smiles. “Because you see, your ‘means of contact’ have miraculously been established.”

Confused, Castiel picks up the paper and unfolds it to find Dean’s name and number written on it. The look on his face must be quite the sight to see, for his friends both start laughing.

“Come on dear, say thank you to uncle Gabriel and uncle Balthazar for your nice gift.” Gabriel teases.

“How, why...what?” He does not know if he should be angry or elated. Guess is that wholly depends on how they obtained the information. A horrible vision of Gabriel and Balthazar cornering Dean in the bar and forcing him to hand over his number crosses his mind.

“Don’t fret Cassie, we went back to The Roadhouse on Saturday to inform the owner of some of the unsavoury clientele they host. She seemed quite cross about it so I am fairly sure that she will keep an eye out, we gave her you’re descriptions.”

This feels a bit overly protective of Balthazar, but Castiel has to remind himself how his friend had seen him spiralling before. He deems it to be understandable, but he was damned if he would indicate so.

Gabriel continues. “Just before leaving the bartender saw us and basically ordered us to give you the paper. She seemed really amused.” He grins at him. “Told her to tell him you definitely got the number too, just so you can’t chicken out.”

He buries his face in his hands so they can not see him blush and groans. Why are his friends always embarrassing as hell? And why did he have to be so shy, that it could even get to this level of embarrassment? He felt like they were in fifth grade and not all grown ass men.

Exasperated he looks up at them. “I don’t know if I should hug or throttle you. I guess I’m lucky you didn’t call him yourself and start advertising me.”

Balthazar is suddenly all feigned outrage deepening his british accent. “Gabe! We have lost our chance! How could we not think of this! Dreadful! We should get the number back now!” He makes a feeble grab for the paper which Castiel instinctively hides in his pocket. That only serves to make Balthazar laugh. But Gabriel wouldn’t be outdone.

“Fret not my dear friend! I have wisely stored said number in my phone already. In fact, we should call him right now!”, he says in his worst, or best it is hard to tell, impression of his own british accent.

Horrified at the possibility Castiel tries to get the phone out of Gabriel’s hand but the other man just laughs. “Hold your horses tiger, I am just joking." He pauses. "Or am I?”

The teasing goes on for quite a while until their food arrives. True to his word Gabriel actually pays, maybe he was trying to appease Castiel. Although he could be the worst nuisance Castiel had ever known, Gabriel was a good person.

That evening he sat down on the couch after a quick shower, staring at the number in one hand and his phone in the other. Programming it in was not the issue, that he got done fast. Composing a message was far worse. Typing and deleting, then typing again. God, he was an awkward mess.

After what felt like the hundredth attempt he settles for simple.

_[ME] 22:23 :_

_\- Hello Dean this is Castiel. I got this number from Jo, I hope this is ok._

It was not technically a lie, he just preferred to leave out the middle man. Or middle _men_ in this scenario. Dean does not have to know about the many levels of awkward Castiel was. For a moment he stares at the screen, waiting for an answer until he realizes how unlikely it is that he had already read the message.

Just as he puts it down irritated at himself it rings. Castiel almost drops it in his haste to read the message while it rings again. Two messages.

_[DEAN] 22:25 :_

_\- Hey Cass! U gettin the number was the plan!_

_[DEAN] 22:25 :_

_\- U wanna get coffee sometime?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been practising Karate for a long ass time now, so my inspiration for fighting moves is from that. If you'd like I could name the moves Castiel uses in this chapter for you, just tell me :)


	3. I Wanna Know What Love Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faithful meeting between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, two people broken by a cruel world, might just be exactly what they were waiting for. Unbeknownst to them their connection runs deeper than either of them might think and very strange things begin to happen from the first time they touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, good, you're still here!  
> Made it kind of on time again, what the hell, am I really allowed to be proud of this?  
> Don't get too used to it though, have to keep expectations low!  
> Does anyone besides me get so engrossed in a task, that they forget to eat and drink or is it just me? I only realised how long I've been writing after my hands began to freeze (figuratively, I do have heating).  
> Again I don't have a beta, so if you find any mistakes they are yours to keep and treasure!  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: (do not read if u don't want spoilers)  
> \- Mental Illness, Anxiety Attack

Ok, maybe the red one? Blue would be weird right? Better the green one? It works well with his eyes, Dean thinks as he switches out flannels for what could be the tenth time, but no one’s here so who’s counting, right?  
He scrutinizes his reflection again and turns around. Yeah, those jeans make his ass look pretty nice if he could say so himself.

“You either pick the green one or switch patterns entirely, the red makes you look even more like a brutish lumberjack.”

Dean physically jumps at his little brother’s voice. “Goddammit Sam, would it kill you to knock!?” He glares at the big sasquatch in his doorway.

“Dude, the door was open.” Sam starts. “And you weren’t supposed to be back yet.” Dean cuts him off.

“We were just getting some things before heading back to campus.” A familiar face ducks out from underneath Sam’s arm and smiles at him.

“Oh, hey Eileen.” Dean makes the gesture for ‘Hello’ with his free hand and makes sure she can see his face. At first he kept forgetting that she can’t actually hear him, ‘cause her lip-reading skills are so frikkin’ good. It took some time to remind him that he should at the very least always make sure that she could see his lips while talking. But by now it was almost second nature to him, he doesn’t even think about it most of the time. Eileen has been Sam’s ‘best friend’ ever since they met in his first year. Dean hopes it’ll be just a matter of time ‘till his little brother would get his head out of his gargantuan ass and ask her for a real date. He really likes the girl, she makes Sam smile a lot.

Sam sniffs the air suspiciously and narrows his eyes at Dean. “You totally used my shampoo. And by the looks of it some of my other products as well.”

Guilty as charged. “So what, didn’t see your name on it, princess.”

Annoyed Sam seems to want to start arguing, but thinks of something better.

“So what’s the occasion? Haven’t seen you this invested in your appearance since… I don’t know, forever?” He raises an eyebrow at Dean. “Who’s the lucky lady? Or man?”  
They never really talk about it, but Sam knows that Dean goes for both genders. For his brother it seems not even worth mentioning, it just is what it is. The rest of their family is sure to be… less forthcoming. At least Dean is sure of it. They don’t really know.  
Not counting extended family anyway, Jo and Ellen would have to be blind not to see his constant flirting with their customers.

“None of your fuckin’ business, bitch.”

“Ooooooh no, you kinda made it my business the moment you used my stuff, jerk, now spill.”

Dean throws him a bitchy look for good measure while Eileen laughs at the brothers antics.

“Ok, yes I got a date.” he admits. “But that is all you gonna get from me, there is nothing for you to know yet.”

“ _Yet_?” Sam voices. “Eileen, you read that too right?” Sam says and gestures at the same time to his friend. “What’s their name?” He sounds needlessly excited.

Dean rubs his face. “No, we are definitely not doin’ that Sammy.”

He scowls and looks at his phone. “Fine, but just ‘cause we gotta go. I am definitely getting _something_ later on.”

With that and a threatening finger pointed in his direction Sam turns around and leaves, Eileen waving goodbye at Dean in tow. Dean is _so_ gonna put itching powder in his underwear.

Turning back to the mirror he goes over his options again. He can’t recall when he’s ever been that nervous for a date. Maybe with Lisa? But that’s been so long ago, he can’t really remember. And the thing Jo told him about keeps nagging at him at the back of his mind. He supposes that he will have to ask Cass about it to get some peace. God, he dreads possibly making things awkward, but he can’t help but worry about it.

Another glance in the mirror and he fusses again over his hair. Despite himself he picks up the patterned green shirt. Sam might be a bitch, but he’s usually got good taste.

∞

They had agreed to meet at a small Café Castiel favours for his free afternoons to get some excellent coffee or tea along with his current book. Nervousness made him turn up almost a whole hour before the agreed upon time. He is really glad that the owner Joshua knows him well enough to just leave him to his own devices.

Sometimes the Garden Café feels like kind of a second home, which is why Castiel chose it. He needs the relaxing atmosphere here for this new thing. Something familiar for something new.  
The Café i s decorated with all kinds of plants, some exotic some indigenous but all of them beautiful and thriving. Castiel ha s no idea how Joshua ke eps them all so healthy. Gabriel just call s him the swamp wi tch .  
There is also a huge cage containing a few canaries in the middle of the café so that you could watch their antics from every corner. Their happy chirping together with soothing piano music coming from the speakers creates a very pleasant atmosphere.

On this particular Friday Castiel was too antsy to do either birdwatching or reading. Nevertheless he brought a book which currently rests open against the edge of the table on his thighs. Leaning back he had hoped for some tranquillity, but the fact that he struggles to comprehend the passage he has already read for about five times proves that to be futile.  
He looks up at the clock on the wall and sees that he still has twenty minutes left to wait until the agreed upon time. With a sigh he closes the book and is just beginning to wonder how the could possibly fill the time without going out of his mind, when the door opens with a familiar chime.

Looking up he spots Dean standing in the entrance way looking a bit lost. The light coming in from the glass front of the café bathes him in an almost ethereal hue and warmth starts to spread through Castiel. He has no idea why he has been so nervous, just the sight of Dean relaxes him and he has no idea why. Normally he would be apprehensive because of what happened after their first meeting, but he is not.

The table Castiel chose is partly hidden behind the giant birdcage, so he has a few moments to appreciate the view as Dean turns around the room looking for him one hand rubbing his neck in an adorably shy gesture. As he spots Castiel his shoulders visibly relax and a stunning smile forms on his lips as he heads over and takes his seat across from him.

“Hey Cass.”

“Hello Dean.”

For a second they just smile, studying each other until Castiel breaks the silence.

“So, I can definitely recommend the coffee and the sweets here.” He suggests. Dean looks at him inquisitively. “Do they have pie?”

His smile widens. “Apple or cherry? And how do you take your coffee?” As he made to stand up and get them food Dean frowns.

“Wait, you have to get your stuff yourself here?”

Castiel just shruggs. “Yes, I like it. Gives you a lot more space. No unnecessary interruptions.”

“Huh. Ok, black coffee would be fine. No sugar. And I like every flavour.” He winks.

Slightly pinkish Castiel turns to get the items. There are not many patrons here at this hour, so he returns fairly soon and puts the items down on their table. He got the same coffee for himself, a piece of cherry pie for Dean and apple for himself.

“Thanks Cass. Good choice.” He gestures at Castiel’s pie, smiling.

The pastry is as delicious as always, but he can’t help blushing at the noise Dean makes the moment he tastes the first bite. There is a smudge of red left on his lips from the filling and it seems to hypnotise Castiel. The way the man licks his lips makes him swallow and consciously look down to concentrate on his own pie.

“This pie is amazing. I can see why you like it here. I mean it’s kinda jungley but it’s nice.” He says looking around again.

“Whaddaya do here when ‘ur not meeting handsome men?” There is a definitely mischievous twinkle in his eye. Castiel doesn’t miss the flirtation and looks at the other man curiously. It seems just to be the way he talks, although a part of him hopes that he might be special in some way.

“Normally I just read. It is tranquil and pleasant and I quite like the birds.”

Dean has rested his palm on his chin, seemingly listening to every word. It is just enough encouragement for Castiel to keep talking.

“Usually I enjoy being alone, but certain company is also desirable. I do not take easily to people.”

“And yet you seem to’ve taken to me, am I right?” His tone is quite smug.

“It seems to be the case, yes.”

“Good, ‘cause the feeling’s mutual. I don’t normally do things like this too.” Dean gestures between them and looks to the side, his cheeks a soft pink. Castiel can see his freckles as the fractured light reflects off of his face and feels the sudden urge to caress each and every one of them.

He keeps his gaze on the man before him, utterly forgetting about his issue with staring.

“What exactly are you referring to?”

Dean looks back at him, catching his gaze.

“Well, it’s been a while since I… dated. Seeing anyone really. Not just for sex I mean.” His eyes drift off again and his hand wanders to the back of his neck, rubbing. This seems to be a sign of him being nervous or embarrassed, Castiel notes and gives him a half smile.

“Well, that makes two of us. Excluding the physical activity in my case.”

Dean blinks at that and perks up, poised to ask it seems, but catches himself before doing so.

“So, this is getting’ weirder.” He let’s out a small insecure laugh. “But as we already are on awkward things, I gotta ask you somethin’.”

Castiel tilts his head in curiosity and frowns, but nods at him to continue.

Dean seems to hesitate slightly before addressing him again. “So Cass, Jo told me about what your friends told Ellen. You know, the owner of The Roadhouse? They, well, told her about an incident after we met. About some people there being shitheads to you? I mean I dunno any details, but I feel like I should apologize for leaving you alone…. If that makes any sense at all.” He pauses and glances at Castiel.

“Would ya mind tellin’ me what happened?”

Castiel freezes. He hasn’t even thought about the possibility that Dean might know anything about that occurrence. He thinks he should have made the connection, but he just kept everything regarding that and his resulting relapse locked away somewhere in his mind, just so he wouldn’t have to handle these feelings.

His breathing grows shallow and he can see his vision narrowing. Nononono, not another attack, that can’t happen, not now, he wanted to enjoy this, he has to get away, he has to calm down.

“I, that is… I mean… Excuse me for a second, I’ll be right back.” His voice is growing feeble, he knows that. He has to get away.

Getting up Castiel tries so stay calm until reaching the bathroom. The moment he locks the door behind him in a stall, he starts to hyperventilate. The world narrows down around him and he sinks unto the toilet seat. Closing his eyes he draws his knees close and folds his hands over his head.

Calm down, calm down, calm down.

Flashes of old memories shoot through his mind, a sneer, mocking laughter, hands groping him, reaching for him. He whimpers, tries to shove them away but he is not strong enough.

Breath. Come on, breath. Slowly. Concentrate.

∞

He obviously fucked up. And colossally so, by the look Cass had on his face before he left for the bathroom. What the hell was he thinking bringing this up so early on anyway? He could hit himself right now.

And it had started so well, Cass seems just perfect. From the moment he’d seen him from the door he felt good. Safe. The man could obviously not get his hair under control but it looked nice. The kind of ‘I woke up like this from the best sex of my life’ good and he felt his hand itch to touch it. Today Cass is wearing a dark blue jacket over a white button-down and dark blue suit trousers, quite a smart look for him. The colour makes his eyes seem even more intense.

And the dude likes pie! How much better could it be? It feels so right, too soon, and even though it should be weirding him out quite a bit considering his track record, it doesn’t. What the hell. What the hell indeed.  
But he could worry about that later, right now he has to worry about if he’s just pushed the guy away for good.

Cass still wasn’t returning and Dean is starting to get fidgety. Should he go after him? Apologizing in a bathroom seems like a bad idea, but what if Cass was just waiting for him to leave and he would have no way to tell him he’s sorry, ‘cause that was it?

Thinking obviously wasn’t doing him any good so he just acts. As he pushes the bathroom door open he can hear disconcerting noises coming from the only occupied stall.

“Cass?” Dean gently knocks on the door.

A surprised intake of air tells him the man’s really in there.

“Dean… just give me some more time. I will be right out.” His voice is shaking, making Dean worry even more.

“Please… just let me in? I’m sorry for meddling, ok? I… just let me in, ok?”

Cass seems to be thinking. Dean can hear sniffling and the rustle of clothes.

“Trust me, you don’t want to see this. I’m so pathetic right now and just burdening you. I will be fine in a second, please do not worry on my account.”

A deep intake of breath follows. “I would understand if you would like to leave.” His voice cracks at the words and tugs on Dean’s heartstrings.

“Open up. Now.” Dean’s tone leaves no room for arguing. “If you don’t, I have ways to get in there anyways, but I’d rather not go there.”

It’s as if he could hear Cass hesitating. But it doesn’t take long until the telltale shuffling and then the squeaking of a lock is audible. The door swings inwards a bit and Dean pushes it open the rest of the way to get to Cass.

The man looks miserable. His face is mostly hidden behind his thighs but for what he can see it is swollen from crying. He is trembling and trying to mumble something about being ok, but Dean doesn’t really hear it. Something in him breaks and before he knows it, he is gathering Cass into his arms, shushing him and caressing his back. At first the man freezes up, but then seems to melt into his embrace, reaching around Dean and clutching at his shoulder blades. Cass’s head rests against his neck, he can feel his breath against his skin slowly easing up.

Warmth starts to spread through him, if it is coming from the man in his arms or from within he can’t make out. An intoxicating aroma reaches his nose, lemongrass and vanilla but also something completely unique and fiery. It soothes his panic at seeing Cass like that, although the nagging need to know what caused it gets louder by the second. God, but he can’t do that, not now. He just keeps holding on tight until Cass would indicate for him to let go.

∞

His breathing evens out and soon enough he feels completely calm and collected. Much calmer than he can ever remember being after an episode, ever. Rationally this situation should be so very awkward, but it somehow is not. The hug is warm and secure and right, as if they just fit.  
It is a dangerous road his mind is going down, one that most likely will end in heartbreak, but he can not let himself think about that, not right now. As much as he wants to hold on, this has gone on for too long already, after all they barely know each other and Castiel does not want to freak out Dean any more than he probably already has.

Reluctantly he lets go. The other man does so as well, but stays within touching distance. For a second they just look at each other. Castiel stares in wonder, a sentiment he imagines to see mirrored in Dean’s eyes, but the moment is broken as soon as he steps back to let Castiel get up.

“Thank you.” His voice comes out small but grateful as he looks down at his shoes.

“Don’t worry about it. Really. As long as you’re not mad at me.” Dean laughs uncertainly.

“As long as _you_ are not mad at _me_ either.” A smile tugs on his lips.

“Nope, definitely not. Soooo, if you’re on board with that, we could just go back to eating pie and talking about nice things? Whaddaya say Cass?”

A full on grin meets him as he looks back up at Dean and somehow he feels that they will be alright.

“I would like that.”

“Right, come on, let’s go back out there. I’m sure the birds are already worried.” Dean winks and holds out his hand. Without hesitation he takes it and lets the man lead him to their table. His hand is warm and squeezes his own reassuringly. He only let’s Castiel go when they sit back down.

Castiel looks down at his still tingling hand and smiles to himself. They have known each other for all of a week and only met twice and yet Dean is already starting to worm his way in and supporting him.  
He is not sure yet what he should think about that. Maybe his alarm bells are not working properly.  
Looking back up he sees Dean studying him and quickly puts his hand down.

The rest of the afternoon is far more pleasant, they talk about a lot, Dean has a lot of ridiculous stories about his work and some more outrageous ones. Other stories involve his little brother and Castiel is not sure how much of them is made up or exaggerated for his entertainment. Some of these anecdotes just can’t be one hundred percent true, who in their right mind would actually try to rob a store with a see through plastic bag over their head and a toy gun? That seems just beyond stupid.

Sam Winchester sounds like a smart young man, Dean almost seems to have a kind of parental pride while talking about him, but some of the pranks they have apparently played on each other are almost too much. Especially when Dean apparently had to spend a whole day at work with a fake moustache glued to his face. But being honest, Castiel thinks he must have looked absolutely hilarious.

Castiel tells Dean a lot about his work at the hospital and about Balthazar and Gabriel’s antics, even though they not infrequently inconvenience himself. Like the time Gabriel set him up for a blind date with a self proclaimed ‘black magic wizard’ without him even knowing it was a date. He just left him with the guy whom he obviously had told that Castiel was really into his ‘magic stuff’. It had taken him the better part of an hour to get himself out of that situation, but not before the guy had apparently ‘put a love tracking spell’ on him, so they would ‘always find each other’. At the end of that story Dean is in tears and chastising Castiel mockingly about him breaking the poor guys heart so completely.

Dean also seems amused by the way Castiel starts to use air quotes when getting agitated or really into a story. His smiles turn almost fond and Castiel cannot think when he had last felt so relaxed. He never was the talkative type, but Dean somehow seems to squeeze it out of him. His earlier episode appears all but forgotten.

Far too soon in Castiel’s opinion they have to part again. Dean has a late shift starting at eight and he still has to go home to change. Exiting the café their ways lie in the same direction so they keep talking until they reach Dean’s car. Castiel’s eyes grow wide at the perfect shine of the machine. He has never seen a classic car in such perfect condition and touches the black varnish almost reverently. Dean seems to like the reaction he sees.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she? ‘67 Chevy Impala, she’s my baby. I do the work on her myself.” He proudly states. “We could take a drive sometime if you’d like?”

Castiel looks at him, eyes shining. “Yes Dean, I would really like that.”

That earns him a big smile. But then Dean sighs. “As much as I would like to do that right now, I’ve got to go get ready for a most likely exhausting Friday night shift. At least you have a nice evenin’, ok?”

For a moment neither Castiel nor Dean seem to know how to say good-bye to each other, but then Dean chooses for them by drawing Castiel in by the waist to give him a soft hug, which he gladly returns. He hadn’t realized before but the man smells amazing, like sandalwood and leather and something so essentially _Dean_. Before he could indulge himself too much in this scent he pulls away and smiles at him.

“I will text you later.” And with that he watches him get into his car and waves as he drives off.

The smile stays fixed on his face all the way home to his apartment, where he picks up and cradles his cat to his chest as she greets him meowing.

“I think I found someone nice, Claire. I hope you will like him too.”

∞

After the fifth drunk and disorderly case of the night Dean feels almost compelled to think about his own admittedly not really healthy coping mechanisms. Frikkin’ Friday night shifts.  
Leaning back in his chair behind his desk after finally finishing all the paperwork for the last three idiots he and Benny caught on their round, he starts thinking about Cass. It’s actually not the first time he’s thought about him in the last couple hours. Fortunately there is always hands on work to do, or he fears he would just sit around and daydream. Or, well, nightdream, as it’s already half past one as a glance towards the clock tells him. He didn’t even kiss the man goodbye after their date. He hugged him. _Dean Winchester had preferred hugging to kissing_. Maybe tomorrow there’ll be fish flying around or something.

Something about Cass makes him want to take things slow, makes him want to treasure the guy. God, this feels suspiciously like one of the things he always mercilessly teases Sammy about. But it’s not as if he would reevaluate that, he enjoys it far too much. He has to remember to buy itching powder on his way home in the morning.

A chime rouses him from his thoughts. Picking his phone out of his pocket he expects a message from Sam or Jo or maybe an alert, but it’s from Cass. The hell is he doing still awake?

_[_ _CASS_ _]_ _01_ _:_ _35_ _:_

_-_ _Hello Dean._ _I would write sleep well but I know you will most likely be up for quite some time still._ _Nevertheless_ _I would like to wish you a good night._

_Dean can almost see how Cass would_ _look_ _say_ _ing_ _those words with a completely sincere face_ _and the image makes him chuckle._

_[ME] 01:36 :_

_-_ _A_ _pprciate the thought, but crime never sleeps. H_ _ope you didnt stay up that long just_ _4_ _me_

_[CASS] 01:36 :_

_\- I believe that to be meant flirtatiously? In fact I lost track of time reading and am quite tired now._

_[ME] 01:37 :_

_\- Nerd._ _L_ _ets chat tomorrow,_ _g_ _o to bed ang_ _el. Sleep tight_

_“What are ya grinnin’ ‘bout? Slackin’ off without me?”  
Without looking up he flips Benny off and finishes the message before standing. “Nothin’ you should worry about, man. Got anything new on the break-in case from the lab?”  
They still hadn’t found the robber. Definitely pros, no physical or digital evidence left on the scene, ‘cept for _ _a few_ _hair_ _s_ they brought to the lab a few days ago.  
“Ya won’t like it brother. Hair belongs to their _dog_ _. Dead end again.”  
Dean sighs. “Guess we’re back to _gettin’ screamed at by influential dicks, huh?”

This whole disaster reminds him of a rather more personal case he would like to solve. He’ll have to call Jo again and suck up a bit to get more info on what happened to Cass. His reaction made it clear that it was anything but ok and that thought makes his insides squirm. If he can’t talk to him without freakin’ him out, he has to go other ways. This weakness he showed somehow makes Dean feel fiercely protective in a way usually reserved for Sammy.

As much as he doesn’t like to go behind anyone’s back, he wants to know. Maybe he can talk to him then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one down, Idk how many to go (I'm not that good at planning ahead).  
> But I hope you enjoyed yourself thus far, so let me know!  
> I will try to post a chapter every other week, but don't be too mad if I don't make it, I am trying pinky promise.


	4. Here Comes Your Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faithful meeting between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, two people broken by a cruel world, might just be exactly what they were waiting for. Unbeknownst to them their connection runs deeper than either of them might think and very strange things begin to happen from the first time they touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, look what we have here, another chapter! This almost makes me seem dependable, I can feel my bad reputation crumbling! *fake sobs*  
> This is an interesting tidbit about me: my job required me to act today. Not the 'we are all nice' act for the customers, but actually remember a script and perform it on camera. I have to say, I really love this job :D  
> (Although I can't remember lines for shit...)  
> Anyways, you know the drill, I don't have a beta, so if you find any mistakes they are yours to keep and treasure!  
> No real warnings this time, enjoy!

The bastard’s back hits the wall as Dean lifts him up at his dirty collar.   
“You say that again, but slowly.” Venom seethes into his voice.

The man lifts his hands up as if to pacify Dean, his eyes wide at the violent reaction.

“Cool it man, we were just following her orders! Should just rough him up a bit, make him scared or somethin’, but he got the drop on us and then all those people were there and I bolted. Didn’t see her after that any more, the bitch still owes me and my pals money! Worst gig ever. And that’s all, I swear! Dunno her name even.” His gaze wanders from Dean’s one eye to the other, obviously hoping for some sign of an out. 

Dean just keeps glaring at him,  pinning him against the wall . “Where did you meet her? What exactly did she look like?”

“Just outside the bar, dunno how but she knew us an’ exactly what to ask for. Knew we wouldn’ mind roughing up some fag for the right money. Even paid some up front, but not enough, I tell you.” If even possible Dean’s features get even more dangerous at the sound of the slur. The man seems to pick up on it as he hurriedly continues. 

“Blond hair, really clear blue eyes, abou’ yay high, really pretty. That’s it, all I know, I swear!”

With another sharp but disgusted look, Dean drops him and let’s him scramble away to the side. He watches as the man disappears behind the next corner, visibly eager to get away.

“You done out here? I promised you I’d call you when one of them turns up again but seriously, what the hell was that?!” 

Turning around he already knows that Jo w ill not be satisfied with anything other than the  full story.  Or as good as he’ ll be able to manage anyway. There was a whole universe of things he’d rather do, but he’d resigned himself to that one the moment he asked for her help. Sighing he gathers his thoughts before answering. 

“The guy you helped me get my number to? The one those assholes attacked that night? Well, we went out and…“ How was he to even put something like that? Hesitating, he avoids her inquisitive gaze and starts to rub the back of his neck. “We… clicked, I guess? I dunno, I just don’t want him hurt. And they tried to hurt him.” He sounds almost like he’s whining. Glancing at her he hopes it’s enough, that she wouldn’t make him spell everything out.

Crossing her arms she let s out a high whistle. “Dean Winchester, are you telling me that  _ you _ found yourself a  _ keeper _ ?” It almost sounds shady the way she puts it. He  isn ’t that bad,  is he? Hell, who‘ s he kiddin’, his last relationship  was years ago.

“I… guess so? I mean it feels good, right. And Jo, I just met him twice. I mean we’ve been textin’ a lot, but yeah, it’s really weird, isn’t it? You can laugh all you want at me now.” Dean groans. 

But his childhood friend seems to have other plans. The hug surprises him much more than any other reaction would have.

“I’m happy for you, really.” Jo smiles as she let’s him go. And then hits him on the arm, hard. 

“But you better do your macho vigilante shit somewhere else, or Mum will do worse to you. And you better not get hurt or we’ll both kill you, you hear me? The way I recall it you’re supposed to be a cop”   
Rubbing his arm he glares and mutters curses at her. The hell she had to be so much like Ellen?  
“Yeah, yeah kiddo, I get it. Thanks again.” He takes off with a small wave as she starts to head back inside the bar.   


On the drive home  Dean contemplates the info he got from that asshole. Someone  _ deliberately  _ tried to scare Cass, for what ever reason he can’t even begin to understand. This is turning out to be so much more complicated than he’d anticipated, and well, he’ll have to clue in the person in question despite his best efforts of keeping him out of this  soon . 

He hits the steering wheel in frustration. It was not going the way he want ed it to at all and that just rubs him the wrong way. This was supposed to be him protecting Cass from further harm and not upsetting him even more with  the knowledge of  some vague people  mean ing him harm.   
Maybe he could hold of the horses a bit longer, find out who the mystery woman  is . Just to make sure Cass knows who he’s looking out for of course.  If he has to at all, if Dean finds her, he could make sure it was nothing. No need to bother Cass at all, now that he thinks about it. He’ll fix it.

∞

“Ms. Geller, please, let us do one more test, I have high hopes that this time there will be tangible results. The more insight we have the higher the chance to identify the source of your illness.”

The woman huffs at him visibly annoyed. If she was not pale as a sheet and looking so weak altogether, her look would surely be even more menacing.   
“Dr. Novak, how many of these tests have you done? A dozen? More? I sincerely doubt that another one would make any more of a difference and I am tired. Just let me be.”

Desperation was prevalent in Castiel’s every move and word. He does not want to give up on his patient, he had not done it before and wants her to know he was not going to do it now either. But Ms. Geller has to consent to it, there is nothing he can do if she stubbornly refuses to cooperate.   
Closing his eyes he rubs the frown between his brows with two fingers and thinks. Somehow he has to convince her to keep fighting. Words are not his forte, so he tries to imagine how his friends would handle this.

Gabriel would just do it without her knowledge, or put her to sleep or something dangerously toeing the line  of illegal ity , so that was out of the question. Balthazar wouldn’t need to convince her, she would most likely already hang unto every word he says, charmed by his ‘british flair’,  as he calls it. His sister Anna was largely convincing, but she would just order her to listen and do it. He was fairly sure that one only worked for small women like her, a man like him would most likely be charged with assault or something equally unpleasant.

What would Dean do? The man sneaks into his thoughts a lot these days, every aspect of him seems to be appealing to Castiel.  He ha s n’t even seen him since their date, but the feel and smell of him seems to linger strongly in his memories. Not to mention the times he thought of him in the shower. Or in bed. Or … Curses, concentrate Castiel, what would he do in this situation? 

Dean was naturally charming, convincing words came to him easily. Maybe Castiel could somehow emulate that?  He puts a hand on her arm, feeling her unnaturally warm skin underneath it.  
“ Well,  I believe this could be it, Ms. Geller. The break-through. I promise this will be the last try, just let me do it, please?” Batting his eyes he looks at her pleadingly and waits, doubting his decision. Who was he fooling he was no Dean Winchester and he was not charming. This almost feels unprofessional to him and he thinks he should remove his hand sooner rather than later. But th e n he pauses. 

A strange sensation is spreading through his fingers, almost like a  warm tingle. Unconsciously he reaches out to it with his mind, probing and testing it, looking for something, but not sure for what. Not until he finds it. 

Unaware that his eyes were closed he opens them in wonder and looks at his patient wide eyed. He’s not sure how, but he somehow knows. The cause of her ailments, the whole diagnosis,  it ’s like a curtain is being lifted from his mind.  As if all the dots are being connected for him.   


She has Idiopathic multicentric Castleman disease, iMCD for short and there was no way he would have ever been able to figure that out, it was too rare, the tests for it far too specific. Every symptom made sense now, the enlarged lymph nodes, the fever, the weight loss, the cough, the enlarged liver, the fluid accumulation  in so many parts of her body. Too elated to even question his certainty he delights in the discovery. This is treatable, difficult to do  so , but treatable non the less.

A grin spreads over his lips, judging by the woman’s confused face he most likely looks like a mad man. Quickly letting go of her, he tries to school his expression but cannot suppress a small laugh.   
“Ms. Geller I am sure about the next steps. I am positive about your diagnosis now, I just need the right samples to verify it for my colleagues, so that treatment can start as soon as possible.  Let me do this and I assure you, you will get better!”

In light of his blatant optimism, she just nods, undoubtedly baffled by the  sudden change that has overcome her doctor. But Castiel can also see hope in her eyes and with a quick promise to return shortly, he strides towards his office to immediately start on the paperwork he needs to hand in for her tests.  Finally he can help her, the haze of hopelessness he felt every time he would return to her case  now lifted for good.

H e cannot wait to tell everyone about this.

∞

“That’s great Cass.” 

The voice coming from the phone’s speaker  sounds so excited, Dean c a n’t suppress an amused grin. Cass ha d n’t been able to keep it to himself for another minute apparently.  They had already arranged to meet later today some time ago, but Cass had called him anyway. It’ s adorable.

‘ _I tell you Dean, it was amazing, almost as if the knowledge was right there, I just had to reach out to it. This sounds so stupid, but I’m just so happy.’_

“I can hear that and I’m really glad for you but I’ve got to hang up Cass. I’ve just stepped out of the shower when you called me and currently I’m getting’ water all over the place.”

Dean can hear the sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line. Is it to much to hope that he gave Cass a nice mental image there?

If so the man seems to recover quick.

_ ‘Oh my god,  _ _ my apologies _ _ , you should have said something!’  
_

“Didn’t really get a word in, Cass. It’s ok, just let me get ready now. See you soon.”  


_ ‘I am looking forward to it.’  
_

A click signals the end of the conversation. The grin on his face  stays put  all the way down the corridor.  Passing by the door to Sammy’s room is open, his little brother intensely staring down at the books sprawled out across his bed. Reading seems to be going not as well as he hopes, there is a frown on his face, one hand keeps scratching his rear.   
Heh , finally, he’s put  it on .  No one can say Dean hasn’t got any patience.

“Hey there Sammy, what’s up?” Crossing his arms, he leans against the door frame.

Sam looks at him and grimaces. “Dean, is there any way you could talk to me fully clothed?”

With fake outrage he looks down himself. “What d’you mean Sammy? Dirty bits are covered and this body is carved by the gods, why ever should I keep this treasure from you?”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks back down at the book in front of him, scratching his hips  now .

“You ok there? Haven’t caught an STD or something, have you?” Dean can barely keep the amusement out of his voice. Sam scoffs, but turns serious again.  


“Actually, I’ve been itching all day, we didn’t change detergent or something, right… “

He pauses. Then he looks up at Dean again, studying him.  Dean desperately tries to keep a straight face, but something must slip through, ‘cause Sam’s eyes narrow at him.

“… you put something in my underwear, didn’t you?” 

Now it’s impossible to keep the joy from showing. Dean roars with laughter  at the look on his brother’s face  and hold s onto his side  to keep the towel from dropping. 

“I’ve placed that one the day after my first date with Cass. This _so_ paid off. Come on Sam, it’s hilarious!”

His words are only met with the mother of bitch faces. Cursing, Sam scrambles to get the underwear off of him, but trying for modesty by shutting the door in Dean’s face first.

“Don’t you dare run away Dean, you owe me more info on this Cass for this, you hear me?!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist. Oh wait, I already did that for you.”

He laughs again and heads to his own room, liking this day more and more by the second.

As he gets out dressed, Sam is already sitting on the couch, staring daggers at him. But Dean is in a far to good mood to let it bother him. He already forgot that his brother wants to know about Cass, so he just sits down next to him after grabbing two sodas for them and turns on the TV.

Sam just keeps his attention on Dean, looking like he  is thinking about how to phrase something.

“Dean, you’ve mentioned Cass a lot in the last week. Is this getting serious? If so I wanna meet this person too. I mean you haven’t even told me if it’s a girl or guy. You’re my brother, I wanna know about the stuff that’s important to you. So… could you talk to me? Please?”

Sam wants a heart to heart. Ugh, he just hates this. Dean grimaces and reluctantly peels his eyes from the screen to look at his brother.

“Look Sam, Imma talk if and when I wanna. I know you’re nosy as fuck and this is most likely not gonna work, but really? Just let me be man.”

Sam just stares at him, puppy dog eyes intensifying as he looks at him pleadingly. “Pleeeease Dean? Just _anything_ , you know you can trust me, right?”

Dean throws his head back against the couch with a groan. He can practically feel his resolve wavering, Sam’s not playing fair and the little shit knows it. Well, he’s actually a gigantic shit, but that’s beside the point.

“Ok, ok Sammy call off the dogs, I’ll give you some info, but only if you stop pestering me, ok?”

An enthusiastic nod let’s him know that he should go on. Dean sighs anyway making a show of how much he does not want to do this.  
“Cass is a dude, an adorable one at that. We’re gonna meet again today and if, IF it gets more serious you will meet him anyway, most likely in the morning.” Following that he uses his patented eyebrow wiggle, getting just what he wants from his little brother. Sam’s face scrunches up in disgust at the insinuation and hits Dean’s arm. “Dude! Gross!”

“Well, _you_ wanted to be roped into my love life.” Mature as he is Dean sticks his tongue out at him. “Don’t whine about what you get if you pry!” Now it’s Sam’s turn to groan at his brother.   
“Yeah, ok, I got it, you don’t wanna talk about it. But then you are not allowed to complain if I don’t tell you what happened between me and Eileen last night.”  
That makes Dean sit up straight immediately and Sam knows he got him now.  
  
“Come on, you can’t just spring something like that on me without telling!” 

“Equal exchange dude, nothin’s for free in this world. What’s Cass look like? And what’s Cass short for?” His nosy face is filling up Dean’s vision, excitement obvious. Fuck it, he’ll humour the kid a bit. And it’s definitely not at all because he wants to know anything, for sure not. He’s just being very generous, that’s what this is.

“His name’s Castiel, ‘bout an inch smaller than me, tousled black hair and he has those really really blue eyes. He’s a bit odd, but in a good way.” A smile has crept on his face while he talked, he doesn’t notice, but Sam does. And it makes him really happy to see his brother like this, he deserves it. He does, doesn’t matter what Dean thinks about it. 

“Ok bitch, your turn, what happened? And don’t spare the nasty details!”

Sam wrinkles his nose at his brother’s  crassness , but starts talking anyway. “So, we were on campus and well, I just looked at her reading across from me and well, it just hit me that I really want to be with her, you know? Like more than friends.”  
Dean mumbles ‘What else is new?’ underneath his breath but  motions for him to keep talking .   
“So I suddenly get brave and lean across tapping her hand to get her attention. I almost lost it again when she looked up, but I just got it out there. I asked her  out on a date.” Sam’s cheeks are slightly red and he is grinning from ear to ear. “And she said yes. We’re gonna have dinner on Saturday.”

Dean jumps up from the couch, fist in the air and whoop ing loudly. “Finally Sammy! You better not fuck this one up, you hear me?” But his face is all pride and happiness for his brother.   
He excitedly pats him on the shoulder and  grins. His little Sammy’ s a real gentleman, he’ll be just fine. He  himself ’s gotta up his game too, he thinks, glancing at the clock he’s got just one and a half hours before he has to pick up his own date.

So, with another encouraging pat on Sam’s back and a thumbs up, he heads back to his room and starts to get ready. God he loves this day.

∞

Castiel is waiting anxiously at the entrance to his apartment building, pacing in the entryway. The old man who lives on the ground floor is sitting in his rocking chair, reading the paper and watching him through  his window facing the corridor. He is  sincerely hoping  that him pacing is not the highlight of  his day. Castiel had some very uncomfortable conversations with the man  in the past and seriously hopes that he will not come out of his apartment to try and  talk to him . It was bad enough that the man took him being a doctor as an excuse to ask  about  and show him all kinds of inappropriate things.  The memories make him shiver. Castiel really does not need him to probe about  in his love life on top of that. 

Just as he ponders maybe going back up to his room, he can see Dean’s Chevy Impala  drive up to the porch. Seems like Dean is also kind of early, which suits Castiel just fine. He as good as dashes out of the door, seeing the old man scrutinize him and the car out of the corner of his eye. But now that Dean is here it seems utterly irrelevant what the old man thinks. 

Castiel opens the door to the front seat and slides in next to Dean, who greets him with a dazzling smile.  The neat tunes of CCR fill the car,  John Fogerty just starting on the chorus of ‘ Fortunate Son’, making Castiel smile  almost as much as the sight of the man in side the car . His date has good taste in music. “ Hey Cass!”  
Unexpectedly  he slides over to him to place a soft kiss  on his cheek.  His face immediately heats up, and his hand automatically wanders to the spot  he touched . Dean’s lips are very soft and leave a tingling sensation on his skin. Castiel doesn’t even realize that he is staring dumbfounded until he sees the uncertainty creep into Dean’s face and he does not like the sight of that at all. 

Promptly he reaches for the man’s hand and squeezes reassuringly. When he looks up again Castiel smiles at him and lets go.   
“Hello Dean.”  
  


Now  Dean seems to be himself again, for he promptly  commences talking with a mischievous tone  as he starts up the car .   
“So, you always so eager to meet your dates  and risk standing around for twenty minutes, or am I special?”   
Castiel is almost amused at the now already familiar flirting. It makes him bolder, otherwise he would never have answered  the way he did.  
“Dean, I can assure you, you are most definitely special.”   


He has to swerve to avoid incoming traffic and whips his head back around with an incredulous look as soon as they are safely back in the lane.   
“Dude! You can’t spring something like that  on me in that deadpan voice of yours while drivin’! I nearly killed us!”

Castiel can’t help but burst into tears of laughter.  He cannot remember the last time he laughed so hart, it takes him a whole five minutes to calm down. By that time Dean is snickering as well, a slight blush adorning his cheeks. Although he can finally breath again, a smug smile stays as he starts talking.  
“So, where are we going? You just told me we were going for a drive. Did you have any particular destination in mind?”  
“Patience Cass, it’s a surprise. Wouldn’t wanna spoil that now, would I?”

He nods to show his acceptance and immediately starts to talk about his miraculous diagnosis from earlier today.  It is still so incredible for him, like a dream, he still cannot understand how he figured it out. It was as if he just…  _ knew _ .   
Dean listens to him attentively and stops him whenever he gets too specific, too ‘medical’ as he puts it.   
  
Then it is Dean’s turn to talk and his to listen. He tells him about how the latest prank on his brother finally came to fruition and that Sam asked his best friend out. That prompts him to talk about Eileen and how ‘awesome’ she is. Apparently she is just as smart as his brother but quite a bit bolder than him.   
“Sometimes she just whips his ass into gear, it’s amazin’ to watch, I tell you!”

While they were talking, the scenery around them changed, houses being replaced by smaller ones and soon by fields. Just as Castiel thinks about asking how much longer they are going to be  driving  Dean takes a turn and the car rolls along a dirt road ending in a forest. They drive through the trees until they reach a  small sheltered  clearing. Dean kills the engine, reaches for a cooler and blanke t from the back seat  and gets out of the car. He  spreads the blanket and  settles on the hood of the car,  motioning for Castiel to join him. It is not exactly cold, but it isn’t warm either and Castiel is glad for his trench coat and the residual warmth of the engine underneath  them . 

Dean gets a beer for each of them out of the cooler and hands him one before leaning back against the wind screen.  Castiel takes a swig of his beer and watches the man next to him for a bit. Without any unnatural light around, Dean’s eyes glimmer in the moon and stars. Not for the first time his hands itch to touch, what would it feel like to caress his cheek, what would his lips taste like?   
Dazed he keeps looking, not realizing that he is being watched himself until Dean gestures for him to lean back next to him.   


“It’ll start soon, you’ve got to watch the sky.” The man tells him with a smile. Castiel tilts his head, trying to guess what he might mean, but complies with his request.   
Leaning back he gazes at the stars, acutely aware of the warmth of the man next to him radiating in waves. Castiel struggles to keep his attention on the sky, although it is remarkably beautiful. No cloud can be seen anywhere on the horizon. Out here where the darkness is deepest he could count every star. The milky way can be seen by the unassisted eye swirling across the firmament. The more he concentrates on every inch of the view above him, the more he becomes aware of other parts of his surroundings. He can hear the sounds of the forest around him, the breeze rustling the leaves, tousling his hair. Animals bustling about in the undergrowth, the chirring of insects and the occasional hoot of an owl reaches his ears through the silence.

And then he sees it. Just out of the corner of his eye at first but then another one directly in the centre of his vision. Shooting stars, more than he has ever seen before, painting the sky with brush strokes of light. His eyes grow round in wonder and after marvelling at them for what seems like an eternity he turns his head, wanting to thank Dean for bringing him here, but the words get stuck in his throat. The man is already watching him, smiling, face now inches apart from his own. Castiel can see the reflection of another shooting star in his eyes, like a silver  guide showing him the way, as his gaze drops again to Dean’s  plush lips, enticing him to lean closer.    


B ut then the magic is broken by the flash of a memory similar to this. A time where he presumed and gave in to temptation, just to be rebuked in the harshest of ways. The other man  had  shov ed him so hard his head had cracked on the concrete wall, leaving him there disoriented and bleeding.   
Quickly he turns away from Dean just to instantly regret it. He knows that he is broken, but never fe els it as acutely as in situations like th ese .  Where he cannot trust and fall.  Not letting his frustration show is hard, but  not unmanageable. Castiel is far too used to disappointing himself, but he does not want to disappoint Dean as well. 

With a sigh he says what he wanted to say before. “Thank you for bringing me here Dean. It is really beautiful.”  
Being unaware of Dean’s reaction he just waits. The other man seems to consider him first before answering.  
“Sam and I came out here once to escape our Dad when we were kids and by some fortunate accident ‘twas the very night this meteor shower happens every year. Didn’t know anything ‘bout those then, for us it was a miracle. We grew up ‘round here,  you know, in Lawrence.  Soon as I was old enough I hightailed it outta there, takin’ Sammy with me. Dad didn’t even come lookin’ for us.   
Those were a rough few years, me workin’ a job, puttin’ him through school in the City. ‘Till I passed the entrance exam for the police academy. Since then money  isn ’t that tight any more,  hey I can even get Sam through college somehow! Well, our apartment ’s crappy and we’re not exactly rollin’ in dough, but we manage.”  
  
He pauses, seemingly running his hand through his hair, then talking another sip of his beer.   
“Dunno why I’m tellin’ you all this. I just… kinda feel at ease with you, you know? Probly’ sounds silly, right?”  
That he cannot let stand.  Turning back to look at Dean he sees the man watching him again, like he might have the answers he is seeking.  


“Actually, it does not. Far from it, to me at least.” He hesitates briefly. “I… I had a rough childhood. Our parents had money, lots of it, but they had very specific paths in mind for my sister and I. They wanted me to be a priest, follow in my father’s footsteps. I tried to be the good son for so long, tried to deny who I was. And I would have probably done it to this day, if it hadn’t been made abundantly clear to me that I was gay. Maybe it never would have happened if I hadn’t met Luke. To be honest I don’t know what would have been better, not knowing him, or knowing him. It was an… abusive relationship. To say the least.  
When my father found out about it, he sent me to college far away from them, so no one in his congregation would accidentally learn the truth. I have not heard from him or my mother since. They sent the money to put me through medical school but it was absolutely clear that they did no longer care what I did with my life as long as I did it away from them. Guess it could have been worse”   
  
Dean is still looking at him. “Guess it could’ve, yeah.” He takes another sip. “What about your sister?”  
Thinking about Anna makes Castiel smile a little. The only one in his family who can actually do that for him. “She also, as you so accurately put it, ‘hightailed it out of there’ as soon as she could. Anna is living in Chicago, she’s working there as an investigative journalist. We meet from time to time. She was always quite supportive of me. She hated Luke, but she accepted my sexuality from the start. I actually think she might have known earlier than me.”

Dean snorts. “Well siblings tend to do that. Sammy sorta always knew too I guess.”  
Castiel turns back to the sky, where he can still see the meteors burn up, lighting the atmosphere. So volatile and yet so beautiful. Silence between the two of them feels relaxed, not oppressive and Castiel relishes the feeling. Why can he not just take this leap of faith? What could possibly happen? His brain is immediately so kind to paint out the worst. Once bitten, twice shy.   
He knows he has to talk about this, if not explicitly then at least in a way so Dean understands. So he does not assume Castiel to be apathetic about… this. Well, they are already talking about things they normally would not, so he might as well try.  
  
Taking a mouthful of beer helps a bit, but Castiel still throws him a nervous look before he continues talking.  
“Dean… I…” Another deep breath, he can do this. “I’ve had some very bad experiences with people I trusted. Boyfriends. I need you to know that whenever it may seem that I am being distant or hesitant – it is not your fault. It is me being afraid. I hope that this does not ruin everything.”  
His face has gotten all scrunched up while talking, he can feel the tension as his whole body clamps up, expecting a rejection. What he is not prepared for is a soft touch on his arm, that sends shivers down his spine.  
  
As he meets the other man’s eyes there is a tenderness there he has not seen before.  
“Cass, don’t worry man. It’s new for me, but I am willin’ to take this slow. It actually suits me as well. Believe it or not I’m rather insecure on this stuff as well. I can get… well pretty high-strung about this relationship thing. So go easy on me if I freak out on you, ok? But it’s just, well, I think this is good. No rush.”  
  
A large calloused hand reaches for his cheek, gingerly caressing his skin. Castiel closes his eyes and leans into the warm touch, savouring it. A soft sigh escapes his lips, the pressure leaving his body. How does Dean know what he needs to hear to make him feel at ease?   


He does not know how long they kept lying there  like this on the hood of the impala, but his body  is cold and  stiff by the time Dean nudge s him to get off before they freeze to death. Inside the car he cranks up the heating and drives them home in companionable silence.

∞

A fter delivering Cass home safe and sound Dean is almost humming with happiness. There were only hugs and chaste kisses on the cheek but he doesn’t mind. Just being with Cass boost his spirits.  Maybe Sammy was right, maybe he should invite him over to meet his brother. If the big twerp did everything right, Cass might even get to know Eileen as Sam’s girlfriend. He’s pretty sure they would both be surprised that Dean would even consider this. He’s got it bad and does not even mind. There’s not been a big ‘ going steady’ freak out yet and he’s more than glad for it. 

And Cass being kind of forced to take it slow, helps him there for sure. Although he burns with curiosity about what the hell happened to him,  w hat did that Luke guy do? It didn’t sound good, and it’s the first time Dean has the desire to punch someone he hasn’t even met  in the face . Could any of this be related to that girl wanting Cass beat up? Fuck, now he spoiled his  own mood by thinking to hard. 

He’d rather think back to the feeling of Cass’s skin under his hand, the slight scratch of his stubble on his lips. God he’d wanted to kiss him so bad in this moment. Maybe next time. Just a small kiss,  just to taste his lips, to nibble on the alluring curve of his cupid’s bow, his chin, his neck…His breath hitches in his throat. Oooook Winchester, keep yourself in check. This is getting way outta hand. No need to sprout a boner in the car, in the middle of the street.  He grins cheekily at no one and thinks back to this morning where Cass had called him after his shower. Well, at least he’s not alone with  ideas like these, he thinks.  
  
The pleasant thoughts are interrupted by his phone buzzing on the seat next to him.   
  
_ [ASH] 00:41 : _

_ \- Found the woman youre lookin for. Ominous name. PCM _

And there goes his good mood. Ash’s working in tech at the precinct, guy is weird but Dean likes him. He likes him less right now for having to call him in the middle of the night after a near perfect day. But he is grateful that he found the woman who instigated the attack on Cass. Maybe some of his questions will be answered sooner than he thought.


	5. Love Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faithful meeting between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, two people broken by a cruel world, might just be exactly what they were waiting for. Unbeknownst to them their connection runs deeper than either of them might think and very strange things begin to happen from the first time they touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People, you will not believe the days I've had...  
> In chronological order I had to neuter my cat, got bitten by a dog and became an aunt. I am currently writing with one and a half hands. (Don't worry he didn' bite it off, but there is a toothsized hole between my thumb and forefinger.)  
> So I am kind of proud to present this chapter, if only cause of everything that could have kept me from it.
> 
> Again, you know the drill, I don't have a beta, so if you find any mistakes they are yours to keep and treasure!  
> No real triggers, just a short panic episode dealt with well.
> 
> UPDATE:   
> Thanks to SOOOmanycats for showing me my logical error, I changed some things this is definitely plot relevant, so thank you guys for keeping up to date!

If there is one public building in their City Castiel really enjoys being at, it is the Kansas City Public Library. Not only has is got the automatic favouritism in his book for being a library, it’s facade also looks like an actual row of gigantic books. Well, it’s not the actual library behind those books, but the parking garage _for_ the library, but it’s still a delight to see. It isn’t every day that he drives his car around, but when he does, he mostly does it to go there, just so he can park behind the books.  
  


The library itself can also simply be called a gem. It is vast, with so many reading spots and beautiful nooks and ceilings, artwork adorning the walls and most importantly, there is silence. People come here for the books, for knowledge. The only place Castiel avoids like the plague is the children’s corner, not that he does not like kids, it is just that he cannot handle a crowd of them. He comes for tranquillity and silence and of all the adjectives to describe children with, silent is very seldom one of them. Besides that, children are innocent and full of potential, he always feels dirty and misplaced in their midst. As if they could somehow see his uncleanliness.

Roaming the halls, he is looking for nothing in particular, just a nice Tuesday morning with a book on his lap. From time to time he likes to take a day off, just to balance himself. Ms. Geller’s problem had kept him from that for weeks, so the moment that weight was lifted he could feel how incredibly necessary such a day was now. In the past he had taken these days to visit doctors and counsellors. Well, the counselling had only been at Anna and Balthazars’s insistence, he had wormed his way out of that quite often. But judging by his constitution in the last two weeks and his increasingly darker thoughts, he might need to do that again. He definitely does not want to. Maybe it will get better soon, there is always something about time healing wounds, right?

It is quiet today, not many patrons in sight. Maybe he really will stay to read among the rows of books somewhere this time instead of going home with a bunch of them.  
Just as he pulls out the first book of Stephen Fry’s coveted series reiterating greek mythology, contemplating if he should start it today, a familiar voice carries to him across the aisles. Following the sound , he peeks around a corner and sees him sitting there, his back to Castiel. Not to be rude, but he is pleasantly surprised to find Dean Winchester in his favourite library. A smile on his face, he starts to head towards his table, but stops dead in his tracks the moment he hears his name falling from Dean’s lips.  
  
Across the table from Dean sits another man. He has a smaller frame, flannel shirt and jeans reminding Castiel of Dean’s own wardrobe, but the brown mullet haircut quite differs from the other man’s, making him seem even more rugged than he is. There is a laptop on the table between the two of them, mullet man frantically typing away on it with a consternated expression.

“Whaddaya want from me man, when I say there isn’t any more info in the database, t’means that there’s no more info in the database! I’m as surprised as you. It’s as if the girl is invisible.”

Castiel can almost hear the exasperation in Dean’s voice as he answers. “Ash, that’s impossible. You are tellin’ me that this Lillith Abaddon is definitely the one who tried to pay these guys for roughing up Cass, but there is nothin’ else to find but her name? What about family? Address? Social security number? You’ve tried other databases? Anythin’, please give me somethin’ to work with here, man.”

“It’s her alright, you know I IDed her from the security cam round the corner of The Roadhouse, was definitely her together with the dude you caught the other day on there.” He hits his keyboard again, typing with a concentrated frown on his face. “I got the name of her mother if that helps, but there is not much else. Her record is also spotless, if you believe the archives which I am startin’ to doubt. Josie Abaddon’s the mother’s name, but dude, you won’t like this. Her personal file is under top secret.”  
  
Dean is obviously grinding his teeth now. “And can you access it?”  
A smug grin appears on the other man’s face, Ash he is called, Castiel reminds himself. “That is exactly why I made you come here, man. Needed a public network to make it even less traceable if this research gets a bit shady down the road. Let Dr. Bad-Ass be your guide young Winchester. But you gotta give me some time here. You can go get me a drink. And a snack while you’re at it.”  
“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed either of that in a library”, Dean grumbles but gets up anyway.  
  
With a start Castiel realizes that he is heading in his direction. Quickly he hides himself in another aisle, watching Dean leave through a gap in the books. The man hesitates for a moment after passing his hiding place, looking around with a puzzled look as if he is not sure if he heard something or not. Eventually he shrugs it off and walks away. Castiel lets himself lean against the bookshelf, his head a mess.  
  
Dean has been investigating his attackers. And apparently the attack had been premeditated. And unfortunately, it is not the first time he has heard the name Abbadon. He can feel himself hyperventilating, as his brain is making connections in the worst possible way. If any of this could be true he has to talk to Dean. Has to convince him to stop his inquiry. It still has not really sunk in that the man is actually following up on this, what in heaven and hell has made him do that?  
  
But one crisis after another. Currently he has to keep the thoughts and memories in check who are trying to worm their poisonous ways through his brain.

∞

Dean grumbles all the way from the library to the convenience store across the street and back about Ash making him do errants, but he owes the guy, so he does it. Still he doesn’t get anything fancy just some coke and chips, his way of being petty about it. Dean is still mulling over the info he just got and it makes him more and more concerned by the minute. What the hell would someone who’s folder’s top secret in the _police database_ want with Cass? This is gettin’ to be way more than a simple petty crime he could deal with in silence. Although he’s never really been to the library, ‘cept to pick up Sam, he’s glad Ash made him come here for this. Bobby would have his head if he ever found out.

Hiding the groceries underneath his coat he heads back towards their desks, winding his way through the rows of books and stops in his tracks again. It is almost the same spot he stopped at before, what the hell? Somehow he gets the feeling there is something important nearby, he just can’t quite put his finger on what makes him think that. Slowly he turns once around his axis trying to find anything that might have caught his attention, but just can’t see what that might be. There are just book all around him, not a single person nearby. Doubtful of his own instincts for once he shakes off the weird sensation and keeps walking.

Ash doesn’t even seem to hear him as he sits down and puts his offerings next to the laptop. Weird ass hyperfocus this guy has. Booby had told him once that Ash had been on the wrong side of the law quite a bit in the past. After getting busted by him, Bobby had practically forced him to turn over a new leaf, so that’s how an MIT grad got stuck working at a precinct. No wonder he had jumped at the idea of helping Dean. And definitely not what Dean had been counting on, not at all. He would never, he thought smirking to himself.

A few very boring minutes later he begins browsing the backs of some books he never heard of before and shuffling through the pages of a sci-fi novel called ‘Hyperion’. He likes the things it says on the back and somehow the weird writing style reminds him of Cass. He smiles as his head automatically supplies him with Cass’s voice reading the words on the pages to him. But he’s startled out of his daydream pretty soon.  
“Got it! Here ya go, one whole, not at all disturbing file on Josie Abaddon. Seems to be deeply involved in a crime syndicate surrounding a guy called Lukas ‘Lucifer’ Vaught. He’s her half-brother, so that kinda makes him Lillith’s uncle. Dude, those guys are a real live crime family, look at the case list: drugs, prostitution, abduction, torture, bribery, fraud. Goddammit man, that’s not good. Not cool at all, I think you should really back off.” He turns the laptop around, showing Dean the lists and pictures enclosed in the file.

Deep in thought Dean is biting at his lip, processing this groundbreaking new info as fast as he can. If, _if_ , this Lillith did what she did in service to her obviously squeaky clean darling family, he can _not_ let this go. Seeing as they seemingly didn’t succeed in their plan; if the goal was scaring Cass than they might have, but they don’t know that now, do they?; they might try again. And he couldn’t have that now, could he? All his senses were on high alert, every nerve screaming ‘PROTECT CASS’ at the top of their lungs. They way he was reacting was weird, it felt way worse than a threat to his own live and he had that a few times before, he knew the feeling. He wonders if this is how it would feel like if Sam was in danger too. He stops in his thoughts. When had Cass managed to worm his way so deep into Dean’s system?

“No can do man, I have to make sure that Cass isn’t in any danger any more. And the way you just described these people is hardly reassuring.” His index fingers are drumming away at the table, a crease appearing between his eyes. “There don’t happen to be any recent activities marked down in the file, are there?”  
Ash studies him with a blank expression for a second before answering. Probably looking for a sign that he might be able to change Dean’s mind. But if there’s anything the Winchesters are famous for it is stubbornness and it apparently shows on his face that he’s hell-bent on this one. So he turns the laptop back around and presses some keys.

“Actually there is. Their organization is being suspected in a kidnapping case, the victim’s called Charlene Bradbury. High level tech employee at Roman Enterprises. Huh, seems to be almost as good as me with a computer if you can believe the files.”  
Well, that doesn’t sound like anything related to the thing with Cass. But it’s a ‘crime family’ for a reason, they sure as hell have more than one thing going on at once.  
  
“Any info on where they operate from? Doubt they have their main hideout in the city or I would have heard about them for sure.”  
“Says here they have a mansion a bit outside of town, but there is another property in Denver. Seems as if Lukas and Josie grew up there. Lillith was born there too”, Ash says, apparently still scrolling through new information.  
“All the stuff they got in here, but not a single conviction. Wicked.”  
  
This is sensitive stuff. There is a lot Dean has to think about, above all is how he should go about investigating further without drawing too much attention. Again he ponders on whether he shouldn’t really talk to Cass. Every fibre of him writhes at the thought and recoils, but maybe he does not have to tell him everything? Maybe he could somehow get the man to tell him some stuff that would be useful without alarming him.  
  
Just as he considers the ways this could play out, his phone vibrates in his pocket.  
  
 _[CASS] 10:12 :_

_\- We have to talk. Can you meet me now?_

Well that was weird. And ominous. He starts wondering if something happened or maybe he’s done something he isn’t aware of.

_[ME] 10:12 :_

_\- Sure where?_

_[CASS] 10:1 2 :_

_\- Please come to my_ _apartment_ _as soon as possible._

Okaaaay, this doesn’t sound good. Suddenly he became very aware of a nervous twitch in his stomach.

∞

After calming down through breathing exercises that anchored him in the present and quelled the fear, he snuck away, very aware of Dean having returned. As he reaches his car the panic had completely subsided and made way for an entire different emotion. He is livid at Dean. Castiel feels absolutely patronized. The way the man thinks it is his right to go behind his back and make inquiries about something concerning him without even bothering to see if _he_ would in any way agree to it. It is absolutely unbelievable.  
Getting into his car, an old Lincoln Continental almost the same tan colour as his favourite trench coat, he grows ever more angry. He knows there is most likely another explanation for why Dean did not talk to him, but right now he couldn’t care less. It is more than a sore spot for him to be made to feel inferior.  
  
At the next red light he does something he normally never does while driving and sends Dean a text. Fortunately he responds immediately, so he can answer before the light turns green and does not bother to look if Dean had send him anything else after that. The drive isn’t long, but it is long enough for him to stew in his righteous anger, fear and pain seemingly forgotten, but really just shoved away.  
  
Finally he arrives in front of his building, puts his car in the usual spot and rushes past the old man, not even bothering to acknowledge his hand raised in greeting. He takes the steps two at once, breathing heavily by the time he slams his door behind him. Claire gives him a very disapproving look as he storms past her into the bathroom to splash a bit of water on his face. Unfortunately it doesn’t really do anything to cool his temper. Dean will be here soon he knows and any other time he would be exceedingly nervous about having him over, but that takes a back seat too in the current situation. Castiel just does not want to talk about any of this in public and this is quite literally his home turf.

Claire enters the room through the half-closed door and meows at him reproachfully, he has still not greeted her. He bows down to pick her up and is immediately assaulted by her rubbing on his face and purring. The familiar sound serves to calm him down a bit and he is grateful for it, but this problem still needs to be addressed. And the anger is still simmering away inside him, just now on a lower heat.  
  
The buzzer rings, indicating that Dean has already reached the building’s front door and Castiel let’s him in without bothering to check. Who else could it be. Still holding onto Claire he opens the door at the knock, just to be confronted by someone entirely different. And not someone welcome by a long shot. In addition to his already seeping anger, fear, guilt and shame bubble up inside him at the sight of the tall, dirty blonde man with the mischievously dangerous grin and twinkle in his pale watery blue eyes.  
  
“Hello Castiel, long time no see! You should definitely check first who is at your door before opening, one never knows, it could be someone dangerous!” His voice grates at Castiel, almost scrubbing away all his carefully build defences, leaving him as vulnerable as he was at sixteen when they first met.

“Luke”, he says apprehensively. There might actually be noone in this world he would like to see less. The years apart he spent healing seem not enough the way fear is clutching at his heart. But he _has_ learned. And he will not let this man victimize him again.  
“ What are you doing here? You are not welcome.” His voice is careful but firm and he tries his best to keep any emotion from showing on his face , creating a perfect mask of indifference. Claire’s claws are digging into his arms and as the hair bristles on her back she starts hissing at the stranger, most likely a reaction to sensing her caregiver’s distress.  
  
“ Oh don’t worry love, I am not here to stay. I just came by to sincerely apologize for my niece’s behaviour the other day.” Seemingly indifferent to Castiel he gazes at the cat in his arms still shooting daggers at him with an amused grin. Knowing Luke as intimately as he did, Castiel can see the deception for what it is. Luke was never truly sorry for anything, and he highly doubts that that ha s changed. He is far too self-important for it . Which makes it all the more threatening that he is here.  
“Lillith can be oh so obsessed with and protective of her poor uncle, especially because she _just_ learned how he ha s been cheated so tragically all those years ago by a preacher’s son of all people.” A pitiful sigh escape s his lips, theatrically emphasizing his feigned pain. The impudence of these words make Castiel speechless. T hey either obviously remember their year s together quite differently or Luke is trying to do what he had always d one . Toying with Castiel.

“But I have to say, you have kept yourself quite nicely! This impeccable skin of yours always has been one of your best assets.” Tilting his head slightly, like for a kiss, he keeps that insufferable smirk on his lips Castiel had once so adored but now cannot stand. And then Luke reaches his hand out as if to cup his cheek with it. Dumbfounded by the audacity of the action and trembling almost imperceptibly Castiel just gapes at him. Another hand shoots forward, grabbing Luke’s by the wrist.  
  
Dean pushes himself between them, forcing Luke to take a step back, shielding Castiel from the man. His heart leaps with relief and affection at the sight of Dean, but is also sharply reminded by the action why he had called him here. And now Luke knows his face. The thought of that is worse than the fear he felt at seeing Luke again. Now he can just pray that Dean won’t do or say anything stupid.  
He could have saved his prayers for something else, he realizes just a split second later.  
  
“Back off, dickhead. And don’t even think about doing anything funny or you will have to deal with me”, he snarls at Luke with venom in his voice. Wow. This is endearing, infuriating and frighteningly stupid at the same time. Castiel knows that Luke would not even have to get his own hands dirty to get rid of Dean. And the amused expression on the man’s face tells him that he won’t hesitated to do so too. The thought makes a surge of desperate bravery rise up inside of him and he reaches around to lay a hand placatingly on Dean’s shoulder, compelling the man to look around.  
The way he looks in this moment obviously quells any kind of argument Dean was starting to make, so he lets his gaze fall.  
  
The other hand still securely fastened around his cat, he turns back to Luke, stepping up next to Dean to talk to him. “I apologize for my friend. He might be a bit overprotective, but he does not mean any harm.” Intentionally he tries to keep his face and voice as calm and collected as possible. “Nevertheless I would like you to leave. As you can see I have a guest.”  
The smirk never left Luke’s face as he considers the two of them. “Yes, I can see that. Wouldn’t want to keep you from _attending_ to your _guest_ now, would I? You always have been such an attentive person to others.” A glint in his eye accompanies the insult only Castiel would be able to catch and makes him flinch ever so slightly.  
  
Thankfully he leaves it at that, turns around and takes off. The moment he vanishes from sight, Castiel releases the breath he was not aware of holding. His knees grow weak and the only things keeping him from collapsing right then and there are the man next to him and the cat on his arm. He ushers Dean inside, locks the door behind them for good measure, lets Claire down and at last collapses on the couch in the living room.

For a moment he watches Dean as he stomps after him into the room, obviously still wound up by the scene that just happened. Or that is what he guesses it to be anyway. Exhausted but determined that they need this conversation, Castiel sits back up, pulling himself together and pushing every emotion and distress his ex-boyfriends sudden appearance had brought with him to the bottom of the well.

“What the hell was that Cass? You looked absolutely freaked one moment and when I try to defend you, you just brush me off like that??” The earlier feelings of annoyance emerge again at Dean’s blatant ignorance.  
“ I am not frail Dean, you do not need to protect me”, he growls. Before he can stop himself he keeps talking. “If you properly investigated the incident behind the bar, you should know that.”  
It was unfair and unwise, but Castiel wasn’t able to stop himself.

The man stopped his pacing at the words and looks at him with surprise and suspicion.  
“How do you know that?” His eyes form into slits, not flinching away from Castiel’s furious gaze. “I heard you talking at the library today. I am not fragile and I most definitely do not need to be protected. You should drop it.”  
“ _Drop it_ ?? Do you know the danger you’re in? I mean I guess you do, seeing as you were all buddy-buddy with the big bad boss man right out there.” He glares at Castiel. “Oh and never mind the eavesdropping, right?”  
  
So he already knew about Luke but apparently had not yet made the connection. In any other situation Castiel would have been impressed, but this was different.  
“He is _the_ Luke I told you about. My _abusive_ ex-boyfriend. And I know very well how dangerous he is, believe it or not. Do not involve yourself more than you did, you already gave him a reason to go after you, don’t make it more interesting for him. _I_ can deal with him.”  
The words do not seem to work the way he intended them to. Ire is burning behind the other man’s eyes.  
“Oh, yeah, you can deal with him just fine, you were fuckin’ _shaking_ Cass! What would you even have done if I hadn’t shown up?”  
“Let him have his moment and he would have forgotten all about me again. Now you _gave him a reason not to_ ”, he hisses.  
“Well, if you had roped me in on the whole ‘my ex is an evil crime overlord’ thing, maybe I would have known that!!”  
“Would you really have acted differently if you knew Dean?”

That obviously makes him hesitate for a second.  
“Look, Cass, probably not, but that’s just because I wanna protect you! You’re important to me and I want you safe!”  
“ _I do not need protection, Dean._ You should know by now that I am perfectly capable of defending myself.” His tone is cool and distant. The thought of being seen as a victim by Dean is slowly poisoning his mind.  
“ Dammit Cass, what about the breakdown? What about now? You’re hurting and he is the one hurting you!”  
“I can deal with Luke, Dean.” He turns up his chin defiantly, daring Dean to tell him otherwise.  
And besides that there is still another matter to attend to.

“And when, pray tell, where you planning to inform me that you were investigating the incident _behind my back_?”

“I did not want to upset you, Cass!” His words almost sound pleading.  
“So you chose to keep me in the _dark_ ? Didn’t you ever think that I might have a right to choose if I want you to investigate or not? That this might be overstepping your boundaries? Because it is something that _has everything to do with me_ but virtually _nothing to do with you_ ?”  
“Nothing to do with me?? Seriously, dude?? And come on, Cass, you would’ve just run away again, wouldn't you? I just wanted to make sure you were fuckin’ safe and surprise! Turns out you’re not!”

Castiel felt like throwing something at him.  
“You could have _asked_ and _made sure_. You could have _trusted_ me to be able to deal with this! To deal with it _together_. To treat me like an equal, not some damsel in distress, because I am _not_.”  
Dean scowled. “I never said you were, Cass. But seriously, think about it, would you really have let me do it? Don't think so. And good thing I did, 'cause this is dangerous and I would have stayed ignorant. And as your… “ Dean stops as if struck by something. His demeanour changes instantly, his brows furrow and his expression closes off as he folds his arms in front of himself.  
  
“You know what Cass, if you wanna be a stubborn ass suit yourself. I’m outta here.”  
And with that he turns, only to nearly trip over the cat and curse. It almost sounds like a muttered apology that he sends in her direction, before he leaves the room. A second later Castiel hears the front door being slammed shut.  
  
He is speechless. This was absolutely ridiculous and Dean had just stormed off like a sulking child. He doesn’t even know when he had jumped up off the couch during their argument, he just knew that he is now standing in the middle of the living room. Picking up a pillow from the couch he throws it in the general direction of the door.

∞

Stupid Cass, stupid cat, stupid fucking him. He is sitting in his car still fuming, hating everyone and everything, but most of all himself, ‘cause Cass’s right. He shouldn't have gone behind his back and he'd known that the whole time. But he does not regret doing it, it beats the hell out of going about his day oblivious, why the fuck doesn't Cass understand that? He hits the steering wheel in anger, earning him a blare of baby’s horn and the disapproving glare of a passer-by.   
  
He had been about to call himself Cass’s boyfriend and they hadn’t even talked about that yet. The weirdly possessive streak that had overcome Dean together with his fierce desire to protect Cass, take him in his arms and shield him from every possible danger, had caught him totally off guard. They were dating and hadn’t even kissed yet, had even agreed to take it slow and here is Dean talking as if he has some kind of claim to the man, he’s disgusted by himself.  
  
But what surprises him the most is the depth his emotions for Cass have already reached. This isn’t supposed to happen, not so soon or at all for that matter. He’s never had this before and it suddenly scares him more than he thought it would. This makes him vulnerable and he’s not too fond of that to put it mildly.

The way he’s acting isn’t right and he knows it, but Cass isn't right either. And he's pissed at Cass for being so stubborn about accepting his help. This Luke guy’s dangerous and he has no idea what he’s already done to Cass in the past, but it had to have been bad. Isn’t he at least allowed to worry?   
That thought makes him irritated all over again. Hey, if Cass is oh so sure about being able to handle it himself, he can he his guest. Dean sure as hell isn’t going to be the one crawling back to him and grovel for forgiveness.  
  
Cass might be a stubborn ass, but two could play that game. And there’s noone around more bullheaded than a Winchester, he thinks with a bitter satisfaction.


	6. Wish You Were Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faithful meeting between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, two people broken by a cruel world, might just be exactly what they were waiting for. Unbeknownst to them their connection runs deeper than either of them might think and very strange things begin to happen from the first time they touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, we are finally getting somewhere! Maybe I can read it in my tea leaves when I'll get to the juicy bits.  
> Thanks for still being there for the ride! And accepting that I'm not the fastest of writers. :)  
> As per usual I don't have a poor beta chained up in my basement, so if you find any mistakes they are yours to keep and treasure!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS for: (Do not read if you don't want spoilers!)  
> \- Self depreciation  
> \- Mayor injury

There is a knock on the door for what seems to be the thousandth time. It’s been a week since he last spoke to Cass and the anger still isn’t completely gone. What’s even worse is that he misses him. It feels as if there’s a piece of him gone he didn’t know was even there before. It’s frustrating and irritating, so Dean had buried himself in his work like he always does if he wants to avoid thinking too much. So that’s what he’s focusing on right now, busying himself over files while listening to AC/DC over his headphones.   
  
Another knock on the door. Sam the persistent bastard. His little brother had pestered him all week to talk to him about his ‘mood’, so he had begun to simply avoid him. Ignoring the knock again he turns up the music, hoping he would give up soon. As if Sam knows what Dean’s doing, the knocking grows louder. Damn the guy’s annoying.   
“Come on Dean, open up, I’m not the only one who wants to talk to you!”  
  
Ugh, who the hell did the sasquatch rope in now to irritate the hell out of him? Reluctant and making quite a show about grumbling and stomping to the door, he turns the key, only to be met by a furious looking Eileen. Standing at just five foot two she’s basically tiny and yet right now she looks twice her height, positively intimidating the way her eyes are narrowed in on him, rooting him to the spot.   
“Why can’t you Winchesters just say what the hell is wrong instead of moping away like children?” He hands are flying adding ‘emotionally stunted idiot’ to the words coming out of her mouth, knowing fully well the first thing Dean had learned in ASL was cursing. It would be amusing how she’s using the plural, obviously including Sam, if that stare wasn’t directed at him right now.  
  
Sam’s standing behind her looking appropriately mortified by her outburst and somehow marvelling at her at the same time. Dean’s just stuck at mortified. Mouth hanging open with unspoken words, he isn’t even sure which ones exactly, he let’s himself be pushed back inside his room and manhandled unto his chair. Eileen carelessly shoves stuff to the ground so she and Sam have a space to sit on the bed across from him. The big puppy just obediently settles down next to her and keeps watching.  
“What the hell happened? One day Sam tells me you are happy as a clam with your new heartthrob boyfriend and the next you don’t even talk any more. Just grumble and sulk and bury yourself in work. And I have to listen to Sam mope about that then. So you’re going to talk about why you are disturbing our honeymoon phase and this better be good.”   
  
As she’s used to do, her hands motion everything she says in turn so the boys can practice and learn, but this time she does it so quickly that Dean can barely catch anything but her voice. He holds up a hand to quell the onslaught of words and give himself time to process.   
“Woah, woah, woah, assault much? Can’t a guy have his peace? There’s nothing wrong, just a bad week.” Why the hell does everyone always want him to talk about stuff? Can’t they just eat their feelings like normal people?  
  
Eileen rolls her eyes and pointedly glares at him. “So the moping, staring at your phone, burying yourself in work and pointedly avoiding the topic has nothing to do with Cass?”  
Now it’s Deans turn to glare, namely at his brother, who is suddenly very interested in something on the floor. His brother is a frikkin’ gossip girl. Normally he wouldn't mind that much, ‘specially seeing as Eileen is now Sam’s girl, but right now it’s different. Now he feels cornered, so he does what he always does when backed to the wall.   
  
“Seriously Sam, did you immediately spread every detail of my day around, or what? Is a bad week reason enough to get the cavalry? ‘Cause I seriously don’t wanna talk about any of this stuff, so leave me the fuck alone!” His voice had grown louder by the second and he can see Sam flinch and gesture to Eileen ‘Told you it was a bad idea’.  
  
Fuckin’ right it was. “So sorry, I guess, for disturbing your ‘honeymoon phase’ but I’m fine, so leave me alone an’ keep honeymoonin’”, he says emphatically. Right after using the air quotes he regrets it. They are always so endearing to him when Cass uses them, so now his mood is worse, if that is even possible. How is it possible to be so mad at someone but still miss them this much? He needs to get his mind off this like yesterday.   
  
The two in front of him are still gaping at him, both kind of taken aback. “Suit yourself”, Eileen finally says and gets up first, clearly mad. Sam shoots him an exasperated look before following her and closing the door behind them. There is a bit of guilt surfacing as he watches them go, but he quickly shoves it down to join the other stuff and returns to his case. Examining his feelings would do nothing more than make them worse right now and he _needs to work_.  
  
There had been another break-in far too similar to the one all these weeks ago to be a coincidence. Another wealthy household, occupants gone and top-of-the-line security disabled as if it was nothing. Since they hadn’t found anything the last time, there had been some backlash at the precinct, so he was even more determined to find something, anything that could point him and Benny in the right direction. Shuffling through the papers he looks for any discrepancy. If everything is similar, sometimes it is more telling what’s different. Both break-ins were very obviously carefully planned, even similar items were stolen. Jewellery, precious paintings, other works of art, all things that could be sold for a good profit if you have the right buyers.   
  
The list of missing items is seemingly almost identical. He goes through it again, letting his finger run over the piece of paper while reading over each line. All the while comparing them to the list of the first b&e. Eery how the burglars seemingly knew where each item was located in the house, there was no unnecessary mess. They would either have to have someone on the inside or surveillance. He checks again with the rooms who had actual cameras in them and where each item was located in the houses. Jesus, he would never understand how anyone could live in a home full of cameras like that. Batshit crazy, that’s what that is.   
And then he sees it. The discrepancy he’s looking for. He thinks.  
  
Only one thing was stolen in a room without a camera. A bottle of high quality whiskey out of the cellar. Granted it was good stuff, some special edition with a quirky name by a local distillery he also buys from, but not as pricey as the other things. He scowls at the item description and estimated value. It’s odd, the amount noted down is also higher than he expected for the bottle. Maybe it’s nothing, but his gut tells him he’s on to something. Tomorrow he’ll run it by Benny and see what he says about it. They might as well swing by the distillery if he also thinks it could be something. Besides, he could really need a pick me up too. And what’s better than a good bottle of whiskey?  


∞

C astiel cannot  rationally  decide what is worse at the moment. The constant nightmares plaguing him since his encounter with Luke and subsequent argument with Dean or the insomnia that sets in whenever he wakes up after one of  them . Lying awake worrying,  on the verge of yet another attack or having his worst fears  brought to life  in a  dream.  It  feels like being caught between Scylla and Charybdis. 

The disastrous day had been followed by a disastrous evening. As soon as his anger had subsided, the panic had set in and he had called the  only person  he could . Balthazar had been there in an instant, all soothing words and open ears. It  was so embarrassing  to have to rely on someone else, but this time it had been necessary. Castiel could only be thankful that he has a friend like him.    
  
To make things worse he misses Dean. Badly. He misses the small texts he used to get during work, his voice during their almost daily calls, the twinkle in his eyes when he smiles. Everything. He is running on empty and draining away more every second.  Barely able to keep his eyes open h e lets his head rest on his crossed arms on the cheap linoleum table.  And he worries. He hopes it to be nothing, but Luke having seen Dean makes him antsy beyond belief. Not that he can really do anything about it.  But still he worries.   
  
The buzzing of the cafeteria around him sounds muted, people rushing by, laughing, talking,  everything’s animated and lively.  H e barely registers it. For the he-does-not-even-know-how-manyth time today Castiel gets out his phone and stares down at it, as if  willing it to ring on it’s own.  
  
He had been so preoccupied by his adamant defence of his pride, that he lost sight of things a lot more important. Yes, he was still bitter about not being consulted and Dean has to understand that, but now that he  has cooled down he understands where Dean is coming from. Castiel knows that he is not the easiest person to deal with.  D amaged goods that should have been thrown out years ago but somehow still stubbornly hold on  in his opinion .  God he does  _ not  _ deserve Dean to care for him, but he desperately wants him to. Maybe he should call. Or text.  Ye s t exting was definitely better.  
  
Still hypnotising the black screen his muddled brain does not realize that the seat opposite of his is  being occupied until a hand waves around between the phone and his face. Startled he looks up and takes a second to focus on Balthazar’s face, scrunched up with worry, apparently talking to him.  
  
“...like shit, did you even listen to me Cassie?”, he finishes up as Castiel looks at him with what is sure to be a bone-tired expression on his face. His wits also take a second to kick back in gear before he responds.  
“I’m sorry Balt, what did you say?”   
Balthazar sighs deeply before considering him with a sympathetic gaze.   
“Still no word from him then?”   
Castiel hums and looks down,  not really in the mood to go through this again. Or to go through anything as a matter of fact.   
“Bloody hell Cassie, this can’t go on. I mean yes, we are in a hospital, but that is no excuse to deteriorate until you need one. Have you told Anna about Luke yet?”   
He shakes his head. In his opinion there is no need to  disturb her, but Balthazar has been insistent on it.  His friend keeps looking at him for a bit longer before  he continues .   
  
“I worry  Castiel. You came out of this ‘relationship’ a mess and you still haven’t told me everything that happened during those two years.  I know I wasn’t there for the immediate aftermath, but  Anna has filled me in on a lot of things.  N o one would walk out of this being just fine and dandy. It is totally understandable that you are touchy about certain things and subjects, but there is no need to torture yourself like this. Call Dean, explain some things in more detail, talk  _ calmly  _ with him about this and it will all be sorted out. I’ve never seen you so happy as in the weeks since you met him, don’t let this one walk away. And for God’s sakes call Anna. She needs to know about Luke to cover your  comely behind .”  He waits for Castiel to show some kind of sign that he understood him before getting up again.  
  
A tray with food is being shoved in front of him. Mashed potatoes, green beans, meat, a piece of pie and juice. “Eat. I am fairly sure you haven’t today by the looks of you. And no, coffee is not food.” Castiel shrugs and looks up at him guiltily. Balthazar knows him a bit too well. “For Christ’s sakes Cassie you are a physician. You of all people should know better”, he  says tiredly.   
“Call Dean. Sort it out. Call Anna. Fill her in on the situation. You got that?”   
He nods, not really any energy left for arguing. Balthazar sighs and points at the food again. “Eat. I have to go and save some poor sots life. I’ll call you later.”   
  
Finally he leaves Castiel to his own devices. Picking up the fork he starts to pick at his meal. The piece of pie seems to be mocking him, making him think about Dean even more. It’s apple pie. He stabs at it as if it was at fault for his overthinking. After scowling at it some more he sighs and puts a bite in to his mouth. It’s not bad, but it’s not good either.  A homemade pie would be a good piece offering, would it not?  He is not a baker but h ow hard could it be?  Gabriel would help him for sure if he is sufficiently bribed.   
  
Getting out his phone again, he opens the messenger to Dean’s number and starts a new text.  
  
_ [ME] 12:33 :  
  
\- Can we talk? _

∞

Holy shit this day is gonna be the end of him. His little bitch of a brother had sulked the rest of the night and conveniently forgotten to wake him as asked, so he hasn’t had a proper breakfast and  was forced to drink the coffee at the station. The stuff tasted like soot water. At least it got him sufficiently awake to deal with the few minor cases that had landed on his desk.  It had really seemed as if his day was looking up by eleven, but then he and Benny had been called in as backup on a robbery gone wrong at a Gas-n-Sip. The idiot of a robber had taken the cashier hostage when an officer had accidentally entered the shop the exact moment he was trying to get the cash.   
  
Now they were all standing outside the place,  waiting for the negotiator to get the guy to give up. Aiming at the door together with the other cops the buzzing of his phone goes unnoticed. All this waiting around is making him anxious, he’s never been good with just standing around doing nothing and letting others do all the real work.  Dean was itching to do something, but he knows he’ s not even remotely qualified or allowed to help the poor guy reasoning with the robber, so he stays put. Dean cannot wait until he’s finally allowed to take the detective’s exam and get rid of the uniformed tasks.   
  
Which is precisely why it’s bugging him even more that he can’t even talk about the b&e cases with Benny right now. Maybe Bobby would really make good on his promise of promotion if they manage to crack it  now . Even if it wasn’t done right away. Hell, Dean’s still doubting it to have been the wisest decision to put them on it, but here they are and they are gonna make the best of it. 

Finally the front doorbell chimes and the robber is coming out with his hands held high. The guy actually listened to reason, Dean’s impressed. And so relieved that they can finally move on.   
On their ride back to the station he relates his findings from the previous evening to Benny including his doubts about the price of the whiskey.  
“Brother, if ya think it might be worth lookin’ at, let’s go. We’ll have Bobby sign off on it an’ go as soon as ye’re finished with yer report.”  
“And as soon as you’re too.”  
“Nah brother, ye’re always slower than me. Won’t hav’ter wait for me, I’ll hav’ter wait for ye.” There is a smug grin behind his beard. “Low blow dude”, he grumbles. It’s true but still. Benny just keeps grinning.   
  
Dean’s pretty sure that his partner also picked up on his mood this past week, but chose to give him space. The occasional banter still happened between them, but he didn’t ask Dean to talk when he clearly didn’t want to. That’s what he likes so much about the guy, he just let’s him be. Sam always says that he can’t hide forever, but the little bitch can just watch him do it anyways.   
  
Back at the station he goes right to his desk, working on maybe proving Benny wrong this time even though it’s completely futile. An hour later he is almost finished. Benny finished ages ago and already got their permission from Bobby to go and “get ‘em tiger”.   
Currently his partner is sitting on his table next to him playing with his Rubik’s Cube and totally not rubbing it in that it takes Dean so long to fill out the forms. There, the last digit entered and sent to archives.   
  
Getting up, he stretches and gets out his phone for the first time in hours. As he sees the message icon telling him it’s a text from Cass he freezes. He had been somewhat successful at pushing away the feelings today until this moment, but now they all start coming back. Does he really wanna read that now? What if it’s bad? It’s one hell of a shitty timing, either or he’s gonna think about it and it’s definitely going to impair his judgement.   
  
Godammn Cass and his goddammn text. He isn’t even aware how long he had been staring at is phone until Benny noisily clears his throat.   
“Ya’lright brother? Good ta go?”   
Quickly stuffing the phone back in his pocket he nods, leading the way to their patrol car, all the while acutely aware of the weight of his phone pressed to his thigh.   
Biting his lips the worries start coming at him, refusing to be put away again now that he has something specific to focus them on.   
  
There’s nothing gained by brooding over this, but somehow he can’t get himself to read it. Maybe it’s good. Maybe Cass apologized. OR maybe he wants nothing to do with him any more and tells him as much over text. Would be just his luck.   
But no, Cass isn’t this kinda dickhead. Somehow Dean is sure he wouldn’t do something like that.   
Rubbing his head he decides that it would be best to read it after he and Benny had cleared the distillery. If he clocks out after he could really get some fine booze and if it’s bad at least he would have that. 

F ortunately the ride over is blissfully uneventful, Benny is busying himself with the material Dean has given him, getting some last minute look just to check if they missed something.   
J. Rieger& Co distillery is located in the northeastern industrial district really close to the river and Kessler Park. It looks like nothing fancy, but the  smell tells him he’s home. The happy grin is being mirrored by Benny, his partner also isn’t averse to a glass of good  old  golden bliss.  Maybe they could have some together tonight. Some company might take his mind off of things even better than just the booze. 

  
A big bear of a man is already waiting for them inside, an apathetic half smile plastered on his face. It’s clearly not his favourite thing to be questioned by the police in a b&e case, totally understandable if you ask Dean.  Wouldn’t be the best publicity for a place sellin’ alcohol to be associated with a crime. After a polite greeting introducing himself as Dave the man gets right to the point, possibly not wanting them around for too long.  
  
“So gents, what can I help you with?”

Dean whips out the description of the whiskey in question and shows it to him.  
“Could you tell us about this bottle? Why is it valued so high here?”  
Dave squints at the tiny print, obviously thinking. “Is it possible to tell me the name of the customer? We do have a database for premium buyers.”  
Dean gives it and the man shuffles behind the counter, tapping away at a keyboard and then scrolling through some things Dean cannot see from his vantage point. What he can see is his eyes widening as he finds the right entry.   
  
“Ok, this was made with a special blend of  our whiskeys , specifically made for that customer,  it’s kind of exclusive . He ordered  a hundred bottles for a party  last . This stuff isn’t everyone’s taste believe me. And on top of it all it’s really expensive in production, so that explains the value.”   
He squints at something on the screen  and contemplatively looks at the two officers in front of him . “Dunno if that is important, but we had a request put in for a bottle not so long ago.  I was actually the one taking the call then.  Had to tell the young woman  that is was custom and not  widely available.  Didn’t take it that well, I tell you. ”  
  
Both Benny and Dean perk up at that. This sounds like an actual lead, they could be getting somewhere. “When was that?” Benny’s coarse rumble of a voice sounds practically anticipant.   
Dave strokes his beard while thinking. “’Bout  two week s ago, I think?”   
So before the second break-in. This is good, this could be  it! Dean can barely contain his excitement as he follows up on his partners question.   
“Did she leave a name or any contact details?”  
“ Uh, I don’t think so…. I think she called herself Ms. Lily on the phone? But don’t quote me on that. Had a young sweet voice.”   
“ Could we get your phone records if you keep those? And help us narrow it down when exactly the call came through?”   
“ I have to check with my boss again, but I think that’s gonna be no problem. Wait a sec”, he says as he picks up the phone to call his superior.  
  
Dean turns to Benny and gives him a meaningful look. His partner seems equally excited if the smirk he gets is anything to go on. Screw clocking out afterwards, they have work to do and Dean can already feel the thrill of finally getting somewhere. The chase is just what he needs to keep occupied, he’s inwardly edging on Dave to talk faster so they can get what the y need and out of here, back to the station and  to  work!  
  
“Ok officers, the boss said it’s ok. I’ll print out the day in question and circle the approximate time for you.”   
It seems to take forever for his printer to kick into gear and Dean has to keep himself from  fidgeting around and basically rips the paper out of Dave’s hand as  soon as  he finally holds it out to him.  Benny thanks the man on  both  their behalf and follows Dean who is already halfway to the car by the time his partner  is out of the door.    
“Come on Benny, as long as the sun’s still out!”  
“Yeah, yeah, comin’, calm down.”   
Knowing Benny he is at least as e ager as Dean, he’s just far better at keeping his cool. Dean hates and loves him for it. Still, he drives off the moment Benny closes the door, not bothering to wait for him to get his seatbelt  on .   


Two exhausting hours, shifting through records to pinpoint each number to  an owner  and trying to cross reference them with the guests at the party in question, later there are just a few unaccounted for. Benny had  to leave about forty minutes ago to go home to his wife and daughter, but made Dean promise to text him if  he gets any finds.   
So close, just a bit more. Unfortunately there hadn’t been anything of interest yet, no one really standing out or with Lily as first or surname.   
  
Stifling a yawn his tired body allows his mind to wander and again he lands on Cass. The phone in his pocket is heavy, he didn’t even peak the whole time.  Maybe he should now? He’s almost finished. Tapping his finger on the table he decides to finish this first. Can’t get distracted on the homestretch can he now?  
  
And good thing he did n’t , cause the next number makes him do a double take as soon as he finds the owner.   
Lillith Abaddon.   
Holy Fuck. Now that is far to convenient to be a coincidence. He is still staring at the screen, checking twice if he might have made some kind of mistake, but no, it’s for real.   
His mind is going into third gear, and his heart is beating like a drum. He has to talk to Cass, this is mayor and his protective side is rearing it’s head again. This girl  apparently doesn’t joke around  to get what she wants  and he has to make sure Cass is save.  What if there was another attempt at harassing him and Dean wasn’t there?   
  
Yeah, Cass  stubbornly  said he was fine and Dean had stubbornly thrown that into his face, but it was in the heat of the moment.  He is worried nevertheless and what ifs are not gonna help him now.  Dean is on his feet and clocking out within 5 minutes, happy to rid himself of the uniform as soon as possible  so he’s able to head home. Leaving the station he heads to wards the Impala, as always securely parked in the  lot a block from the station. The walk is as good as any time to finally read the message on his phone.   
He has to smile at it, the words sounds tentative to him, careful. Insecure.  Yeah it’s totally normal to read something into so few words, for sure.  But he wants to talk to him too. And not only because he needs to.   
  
Turning the corner to the parking lot his thumb hovers over the call button,  Cass ’s sure going to be home by now, right? What if he’s got a night shift  or something  though?   
It doesn’t pay to think too much about it  so he decides to call anyway,  already in the process of pressing down as  he hears a noise .   
  
Suddenly there is an intense pain  piercing his shoulder and he doubles forward, an unseen force bringing him to his knees. Instinctively he clutches at the spot just to bring his hand away wet and red. The blood dripping down on the pavement is blurring as he lifts his head, trying to get a look at his attacker but there is no one in front of him.   
  
Shot in the back in a dark alleyway. From all the ways he thought he would go, this one wasn’t on the list. And he ha s n’t even talked to Cass yet,  cleaned up their mess . He should have introduced him and Sam, he thinks as his vision gets darker.  Now he’s just leaving his brother to fend for himself  alone , that can’t be right.   
The thoughts quickly black out, same as his vision does as he is falling forward onto the  dirty  concrete .

∞

G asping Castiel stumbles forward and clutches his shoulder as an intense pain shoots through it. It feels almost like he has been pierced all the way through, the pain so much it clouds his  sight .   
Letting himself slide to the  floor he tentatively checks the apparent injury, carefully lifting the cloth of his Charlie Chaplin shirt with his right hand, but there is nothing to be seen. Every other check on his bones, muscles or tendons also comes away negative, but the pain persistently lasts.   
  
An awful dread spreads through hi s very being , a feeling of doom crawling into his every nerve. A single tear is rolling down his cheek as he is sitting in the middle of his kitchen staring blankly into space,  food on the counter completely forgotten.   


Something  very  bad  has happened.


	7. Knockin' On Heaven's Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faithful meeting between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, two people broken by a cruel world, might just be exactly what they were waiting for. Unbeknownst to them their connection runs deeper than either of them might think and very strange things begin to happen from the first time they touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the hell, seems I was also impatient to know what happens next, I'm early with this chapter!  
> As you are maybe aware I don't have a beta, so if you find any mistakes they are yours to keep and treasure! You can lock them in the box and than put that box in another box and then mail it to yourself and when it arrives you can smash it with a hammer!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: (do not read if you want no spoilers)  
> \- Near death  
> \- Hospital I guess if you are scared of them, I quite understand that one

Castiel does not know how long he sat there on the floor, he feels numb and empty. Claire had started prowling around him a while ago, voicing her concern with an increasing volume, but he can not even feel her sharp claws digging into his legs in an attempt to get his attention. The only thing he can feel is the pulsing pain in his shoulder that is slowly starting to subside into a dull ache.

What finally startles him out of his stupor is the shrill sound of his ringtone. Grabbing blindly up and around to get his phone from the counter he stares at Balthazar’s name on the caller ID for a blank second before picking up. “Hello?” His voice sounds strange to his ears. Coarse and broken.  
“Cassie, thank god I caught you, you have to come in, right now! They just brought in your Dean to the ER and it’s not looking good. He’s been shot. Right now he is being prepared for an operation, I called Gabriel for it, but I wanted you to know before we go in.”  
He can hear his friend take a deep breath, steeling himself for the next bit, but Castiel already knows. He has told it, or things akin to it, to patients loved ones for years.  
“You have to steel yourself for what could happen. We are going to do the best we can, you know we are, but please. You know the odds. And you know that I cannot let you into the OR, but I’ll tell the nurses to at least let you see him. His brother has already been contacted, he should also be in any minute.” There is rustling and mumbling in the background, clearly Balthazar is being called. “Cassie, I’ve got to go. See you soon.” There is desperation and sympathy ringing through in the tone of his voice, but Castiel couldn’t care less about it.

He’s gotta go, he’s gotta be there, he cannot, will not let this happen, no, no, NO! Shooting up so fast he sees stars for a moment, he dumps Claire’s food into a bowl unceremoniously, grabs his bag and coat and is out of the door in under a minute. The elevator's far too slow, so he takes the stairs and practically runs to his car. The ride to St. Peter’s is a blur, although he is quite sure that he might have broken the speed limit. Storming into ER he just has to look at the nurse behind the counter for her to get his drift and motion him towards one of the doors.

“They are in operation room five, Dr. Novak, but you know we can’t let you in the -”  
Waving at her dismissively he barges through the door. Castiel would never storm into an active operation room, he is desperate not stupid. Another nurse is hurrying after him, drowning on about OP conduct as if he wasn’t perfectly aware of all that.  
“Dammit, I’m not going to storm the room you idiot, just get me into the viewing chamber, now!”, he snaps at the man. From the look on the nurse’s face he has never heard Castiel swear before. Quite taken aback he accompanies him into the room, but not before making him wash and disinfect, as if that would have any influence on the procedure happening behind thick glass in a sterile room.

Castiel is at the window almost immediately. Lying there pale and unmoving on the table is indeed Dean. He’s wearing an oxygen mask, monitors beeping away next to him, live signs feeble but nevertheless still stable. He can see Gabriel bend over Dean’s left shoulder no doubt trying to somehow repair the damage the bullet caused. Laying his hand on the window his heart finally catches up with his brain to realize that there is nothing he can do but watch. His own left shoulder still feels numb and throbs. There is a coldness slowly spreading from it that he desperately tries to keep contained.

Balthazar is assisting, something quite unusual to behold, normally one of them and a few nurses would be sufficient. His friends are fighting. For him. For Dean. It’s almost too much for him too bear.  
As Gabriel goes in to remove the bullet he can see him say something to Balthazar that makes his friend frown and look closer. Castiel’s heart is trying to jump out of his chest at the sight, this cannot be good, please let it be nothing. But then Balthazar looks up towards the window he is standing behind and Castiel knows that something is wrong. The sheer knowledge is enough to press the air out of his lungs and he looses his grip on the glass, his arm uselessly dangling to his side.

Chills are starting to take over, his body shivering as dread overcomes him. What if he looses Dean? So soon after their first meeting, he has just gotten to know him. What if their story ends right here, right now? He doesn’t want this. He wants to be able to apologize to him for being so stubborn, he wants to kiss him, meet his brother, get to know all the things he loves and hates. They have so much to do and see, so many experiences not yet made or even planned. Loosing him just isn’t an option. Dean cannot die now.

Castiel is choking on the thought as it happens. In a heartbeat he feels the strange coldness nestled in his shoulder spread throughout his whole body, numbing every last bit of him and then it suddenly stops. The computers in the operation room are going crazy, flatlining left and right as Gabriel and Balthazar are trying to resuscitate the man of his dreams, heart massage and defibrillator failing before his eyes.

As if guided by an unseen force he rips open the door connecting him to the room and rushes in to the panicked calls of the nurse behind him. All medical training and the stupid risk he is taking is seemingly forgotten. So much for not being stupid, huh?  
“CASTIEL WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” Gabriel’s shocked voice is of no import right now as is Balthazar’s stunned face as he shoves both his friends out of the way, reaching for Dean, all he can concentrate on is his own hand extending towards the injury. The desire of wanting to safe him is so palpable he can almost taste it on his tongue. Maybe he is imagining it but he thinks he can see his intent manifest as a soft glow underneath his palm until it almost connects with the wound, his other hand caressing Dean’s cheek.  
He is unaware that he is mumbling under his breath, but his friends sure can hear the desperate ‘please, please, please come back, come back for me, for your brother, we need you, please’.

There is a moment where everything is standing still as if the world itself is holding it’s breath. An electrifying air fills the room, muting the beeping and screaming all around him, there is just Dean and him. Staring deeply Castiel reaches out to him, feeling as if he tries hard enough he might be able to find Dean, get him back where he belongs. Heal him.  
He stretches and twists himself, connecting to the man in front of him, giving him everything. Everything he needs.

Like air rushing back into a vacuum the sounds explode around him. Gabriel screaming at him, Balthazar tugging on his coat sleeve cussing him out, electrical buzzing and beeping. The reassuring noise of a heartbeat on the monitor that tells him that he did it. Relief floods through him as he bends over and presses a kiss on the man’s forehead completely ignoring anything else.  
How he did it is not important, Dean is alive. He is alive.  
The instant Castiel let’s go of him, relinquishing any and all physical contact between them, darkness starts to crawl in from the edge of his vision. The last thing he sees as he drifts off into oblivion is Dean’s chest, slowly rising and falling in a rather peaceful, natural way.

∞

Gradually his senses are retuning, the first thing he can feel being numbness and dull pain. Not as much pain as he expected to be in, in the unlikely case of him waking up again, but nevertheless. Reluctantly he opens his eyes, squinting in the blinding light of the morning sun.

Taking in his surroundings he realizes that he’s lying in a hospital bed, an IV tube connected to his arm, some monitors beeping away next to him. All of this is nothing especially new, he’s had some injuries before in the line of duty, although he guesses nothing this bad.  
What he does do a double take on is the person sleeping next to him in a chair, his head resting on folded arms on the bed. Blinking again to get the sleep out of his eyes, still not completely believing in the picture in front of him, he stares at the tousled dark shock of hair standing up in all directions.  
Tentatively he tries to lift his hand to reach for the man dozing there next to him, just to reassure himself he’s not hallucinating, but a quiet voice interrupts him.

“I would not wake him yet if I were you, he’s been up all night watching over you. The way he’s been looking the last week this is quite possibly the first peaceful sleep he’s had in some time.”  
Looking up he sees a vaguely familiar man standing in the doorway. He has short dirty blond hair, watery blue eyes, a lean figure and hasn’t shaved in a few days by the looks of his square chin. His lab coat identifies him as one of the staff, but Dean can’t quite read the tag on it.  
In a response to his confused look the man starts talking again.  
“We met briefly at the bar a few weeks past. Dr. Balthazar Roché. The little angel next to you and I have been friends for about forever. And I know quite a bit about you, Dean Winchester. Well, at least the things that Cassie told me.”

There is fondness in his gaze as Balthazar looks down at the sleeping man, stepping closer to the bed in order to carry on this hushed conversation they are having. There is an odd twinge of jealousy at the way he talks about Cass, but this has got to wait. Dean is still trying to get his bearings back, still a bit confused by the whole situation.

“What the hell happened?”, he gets out, carefully rubbing the spot on his left shoulder where he thought the bullet had entered. He can feel some stitches there, but nothing deeper. Maybe it wasn’t that bad?  
Balthazar hesitates for a moment. “Well, frankly, I don’t really know. You were shot and dying under out hands during the operation. Actually, you were clinically dead for a bit. And then this magnificent man burst into the room, totally unprofessional might I add, and did something. Please, do not ask me what, for the love of god, I do not know. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before. And a second later he was unconscious and you were breathing again, living to see another day. The pieces of the fractured bullet we were struggling with just lying on the floor and most of the damage was repaired. We basically just had to sew you shut.”

Dean has real trouble catching up to that. Did he really just hear what he heard? Because that’s impossible. Balthazar has to be fucking with him. An unsure, slightly manic laugh escapes him before he can stop it, but it’s being met by a solemn, humourless face. The man is completely serious.  
“But...that can’t be real, man. You expect me to believe Cass did some magic shit and somehow brought me back from the dead?”  
Balthazar shrugs. “What you believe is none of my concern. But you better show your gratitude to him and not run away scared, you hear me? The least you can do is listen to an explanation, because I for sure will. Cassie’s a good person and he deserves respect, no matter if he has hidden something from us or not. Have I made myself clear?”

Crystal, he thinks while nodding. Although his brain still hasn’t quite caught up to all of this yet, he can’t even think about abandoning Cass. It just feels wrong. It didn’t matter what he’d done, he saved him. Brought him back from the brink of death. And if gratitude wasn’t enough, he wants him. Wants them to be together. This feels really important. Muddled, but important.  
“I will not run from him, Balthazar. I need to know what happened, but it doesn’t change anything else.” Steadfast he holds the other man’s gaze until he too nods. Next to him Castiel huffs in his sleep and nuzzles deeper into his own arms, most likely trying to escape the noise and light. Both of the men look at him, a softness in their eyes, but then Balthazar starts to retreat.

In the doorway he stops and turns again. “I should inform you that Gabriel and I made sure that all of this stays under lock and key, fortunately the hospital has yet to install any cameras in the operation rooms. Besides the fact that Cassie could loose his job for breaching a sterile environment, it should be quite obvious why the circle of people knowing about this incident has to stay as small as possible. On that note I suppose you might want to know that your brother has also refused to go home during the night. I have kept him from seeing you until we could have this little chat, but I could send him in now, if you like?”

The man clearly did not trust him one bit before now, did he? And he is obviously kind of a douche for letting poor Sammy sit out there the whole night, but he was protecting Cass, wasn’t he? Dean lets it slide, if only for that reason.  
He nods, but tells Balthazar to tell his big oaf of a brother to be quiet when coming in, he really doesn’t wanna wake Cass. Not yet. As soon as Balthazar is gone he starts to softly run his fingers through the sleeping man’s hair, careful not to wake him. It’s soft and unruly, standing right back up after being brushed down.

A minute later Sam sheepishly knocks on the door frame, startling his brother who immediately stops what he is doing to look at him.  
“Hey, Sammy”, he says with a small smile. His brother’s eyes are sunken in from worry and lack of sleep, but he returns the smile. As soundlessly as a large guy like him can, he moves a chair to sit at Dean’s other side, but not without glancing curiously at Cass.  
“Goddammit Dean, you scared me to death you know that? I’m really glad you’re ok, man.”  
“Yeah, can’t keep a legend like me down, eh?”  
Sam just keeps smiling. “Gonna tell me what happened?”  
He grows solemn for a second there. “Not much to tell. Got shot in the back and next thing I know I wake up here.” Stretching up to scratch his head self-consciously he winces, almost forgot his wound there. It’s not like he can tell Sam everything he learned just now, he has to sort this out himself first. Talk to Cass.

Apparently Sam followed his gaze to the sleeping man for he changes the topic. “Soo… I guess that’s Cass? What’s he doing here if I wasn’t allowed in all night?” It sounds more amused than accusatory.  
“Well, I guess we’re in the hospital he works at. He’s a doctor y’know. His colleagues kinda let him take care of me I guess.” Avoiding Sam’s stare he can feel himself blush a little. What the hell is he embarrassed about?

There is a mischievous twinkle in Sam’s eye. “Well look at that, now you got your very own Dr. Sexy, don’t you, Dean?”, he teases.  
“Shut up, Sam”, he grumbles.  
Of course his bitch of a brother would make the connection to his guilty pleasure. This is exactly why he didn’t tell him.  
“But Dean, he’s not wearing cowboy boots. Is it even possible for you to like him without cowboy boots?”  
“I said, shut up!”  
His raised voice makes Cass next to him groan in his sleep, something that sounds oddly similar to his name. Grabbing sluggishly around he finds Dean’s hand and draws it towards him, snuggling against it, but keeps snoozing on happily afterwards. Holy shit that is adorable. Dean’s oddly reminded of a cat.

Sam snickers next to him. “Now that I know that you’re gonna be fine and in good hands, I’ll go home and change. By the way, Eileen’s been here till late last night with me. She’s covering the tutoring sessions for me today, so I’m gonna bring you over some stuff later.”  
They say their goodbyes and before long Sam ducks out through the doorway. Figures that he barely fits through there.

Looking back to where his hand is being held hostage, it’s almost as if all the anger he felt has evaporated. Yeah, they gotta talk, but what really matters is that they can.

∞

Waking up he feels a crick in his neck, telling him that he slept in an uncomfortable position. Moaning he tries to shift, only to realize that he is definitely not in his bed. And that he is clutching onto a hand that does not belong to him. Snapping his eyes open he is being met by a smile that reaches all the way up to beautiful green eyes.  
“’morning, sleepy head.”

Quickly he sits up straight and releases Dean’s hand as he feels the heat rise to his head.  
“My apologies, I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep. I am glad that you are awake and well, Dean.”  
The man regards him with something akin to awe if he would have to guess. It just makes him want to look away, but he holds his gaze nonetheless.  
“Yeah, about that”, Dean starts, breaking their eye contact. “Your friend Balthazar was here while you were asleep. He told me about what happened, or well, at least about what he saw. Did you..? I mean, how did you.. you know, um, do it? I mean, he said I was dead. Normally you don’t get back from that, you know?” He laughs awkwardly.

Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t had a moment to even properly think about what happened. Staring down at his hands he remembers the glow emitting from them and blacking out after being completely sure that Dean was alright.  
He had woken up about an hour later on another hospital bed and despite of Balthazar’s insistence that he should keep resting, he had demanded to see Dean. And then he had just begun to take care of everything. IV-drip, pain medicine, heart monitor, sponge bath, redressing of bandages. Normally a nurse would do all that but he had just shoved them all out of the way, sent them to get him the necessary things and done it himself.

“I don’t know, Dean. I just did not want you to die. My body acted all on it’s own.” His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. How is that even possible? He healed a fatal wound. Castiel has always been a pragmatic person, he never believed in such things as magic or faith healing or things like that. But now it was difficult to deny that something was there. What he cannot even imagine, but it had enabled him to save Dean so he was glad for it.

A hand came to rest on top of his own and he looks up. “Well, then we gotta find out together, will we? But thank you, Cass. Really.” There is sincerity in his eyes and it is mesmerizing. Putting his other hand on top of theirs, he squeezes.  
It’s conflicting to actually accept his gratitude for something that felt so natural and at the same time like it wasn’t really him. And yet he holds on to it. Looking at their entangled hands, he starts to caress Dean’s hand gently with his thumb.

“Um, Cass?” Lifting his head he sees the slight pink tinge on the other man’s cheeks.  
“Yes, Dean?”  
He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry for going behind your back with the whole investigation thing. I just wanted to protect you and I guess I went a bit over board.”  
Castiel’s gaze softens. “I am sorry as well. I get a bit tentative about the notion of me being weak in any way.” He hesitates briefly and looks down at their hands again.  
“If… you would like to know I can tell you everything about Luke. And what… happened. But I would like to think that this would be better discussed at home.” Fidgeting slightly he hopes that Dean takes him up on that. This is a very difficult topic and he feels vulnerable even offering it up for discussion.

A warm palm comes to rest below his cheek and tilts his head upwards, green eyes looking deep into his own.  
“Ok, Cass. I really wanna know, but we’ll talk about it on your terms.” A genuine smile plays around his mouth and Castiel is immediately drawn to it. Dean leans forward just a bit and without thinking Castiel meets him in the middle. The kiss is soft and chaste, Dean’s lips feel so good, so perfect. The feeling spreads throughout his body, warming him from within. Why had he been so afraid again before? It is difficult to remember right now.

He does not know how long they sat there kissing, but when Dean withdraws eventually, Castiel chases after him, already missing the sensation.  
Dean chuckles. “Hold your horses there, Cass, morning breath. I’d hate to chase you away with that.” Now it’s Castiel’s turn to smile. As if he would be able to manage that now.  
He stands up from the chair and stretches, not missing the way Dean is looking at the exposed part of him where the Charlie Chaplin shirt from last night is riding up his belly and his smile widens.  
“I am going to get us some breakfast. Anything in particular you might like?”

The man beams at him with a dazzling smile as if he just brought down the moon.  
“Bacon and pancakes, please!” The almost childlike demeanour makes Castiel laugh.  
“I’ll see what I can do.”


	8. Wild Horses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faithful meeting between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, two people broken by a cruel world, might just be exactly what they were waiting for. Unbeknownst to them their connection runs deeper than either of them might think and very strange things begin to happen from the first time they touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, will you look at that I made my own deadline. I'm definitely jinxing it, I just know it. But better for any readers out there I guess :D  
> Lame ass me still has no beta, so if you find any mistakes they are yours to keep and treasure. You can keep them as your precious. Or wait. No. They are MY PRRRRRECIOUS!!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: (don't read if you don't want spoilers)  
> \- Past rape  
> \- Trauma  
> \- Mental Illness

“Ok, let me get this straight, you’re tellin’ me that you haven’t seen any of the Marvel movies? Not one?”  
There was that adorable little frown again. “Yes, that is correct, Dean. But I fail to see what your point is.”  
“Well, point is, we got a lot to introduce you to. Dude, Iron Man is awesome. I can’t let you miss out on that, seriously! I’m pretty sure I saw a TV in your living room, what you got that for, if you don’t watch awesome stuff on it?”  
“Actually, Gabriel gifted me that one. I rarely use it though.”  
“Come on, I know you must watch something. I saw some DVDs in your apartment.”  
“Oh, yes, that is my classics collection! I have all Charlie Chaplin movies, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy collector’s edition, Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, Casablanca, The Wizard of Oz, Edgar Wallace collected movies, the Godfather -”  
“’mkay, Imma stop you right there. As nerdy awesome as all this is, I get you don’t really have anything past the 80ies, right? We got a lot of awesome to catch up on, you’ll see, you’ll love it!” There is a huge grin on his face, he can’t wait to get out of here and do this. Watching Cass see these movies for the first time is gonna be so much fun. The man has the weirdest reactions to stuff sometimes. But it figures that the huge TV wasn’t Cass idea, it had seemed a bit to flashy and out of place.

Come to think of it he had gotten to know Gabriel later the day he woke up and instantly regretted it. The man had fussed over Cass like a child, baby-talked to him like he was an imbecile, asked him about his favourite sex position ‘cause he ‘wanted to know if his itty bitty Cassie was in capable hands’, tried to convince him that lollipops were the ultimate superfood and all that in the first half hour of knowing him. And it definitely hadn’t gotten better from there on. He was exactly the kinda guy to buy his friend a flashy TV. Dean was almost surprised that it hadn’t come with a monthly subscription to Casa Erotica. Cass had been mortified. But at least the guy seemed to like him.

At first he thought that him and Balthazar would get along just fine after their chat, but it soon became obvious that the man wasn’t impressed by him. Like at all. He had called him a bonehead, a brute, a clot, whatever that means, and made it very clear that he thought that cops were for the most part just dumb sheep, doing what the are told. It was infuriating and hitting quite a few sore spots for him, so it made him a bit cranky. Okay, maybe more than a bit.  
Cass had tried to tell him that Balthazar did like him, he was just being a bit overprotective with all that had happened. Even if that was the case, he wants to punch him in the head for the most part. But that would just prove his point now, wouldn’t it? It was definitely challenging, with him having to stay put and all. Dean was a man of action, sitting around just wasn’t for him.

And Balthazar kept him way longer than he needed to, probably not completely trusting the miracle Cass had done for him. He knows the man was most likely just trying to be thorough, but he had been fine from the moment he woke up. No more care required.  
One thing good coming from this ordeal was how talkative and physical Cass had become. It was almost as if some of his inhibitions had flown out the window when Dean nearly died and now he was trying to make up for lost time. Which was all kinds of amazing. Shame they were in a hospital with people coming and going all the time.

Sam and Cass had predictably taken to each other immediately, the two nerds. Dean had spent the better part of some hours surrounded by conversations he didn’t understand a word of. Not that he minded, it was nice to see them get along so well and the enthusiasm lighting up their faces was infectuous. Cass seemed so relaxed and carefree like this. Maybe he got to forget some of the problems he’s facing for a while.  
Dean hasn’t forgotten the promise he had made him though. He definitely needs to know it all, but honestly he does not want Cass to go through it again, the way it obviously fucked with him.

“Okay, you are getting released tomorrow and I took the day off, so we could start somewhere? I would love to invite you to my place again under … nicer circumstances.” Cass lets his gaze sink, but Dean is already there to lift it up again.  
“I’d love that too.” A smile spreads across Cass lips now, which he can’t even try to resist. He leans in, kissing him reverently. He will never get used to this feeling of kissing Cass, it is more addictive than anything he had ever tasted before. He slides his tongue between his lips to beg for access to the other man’s mouth which is given almost immediately. It’s warm and sweet and he starts to thoroughly caress the inside of his mouth, taking his time. Their tongues entwine and his hands start to wander. But then someone clears their throat loudly in the doorway.  
Dean groans indignantly and breaks away from Cass, but keeps his hands where they are resting on Cass’s hips, just turning his head from where they are sitting on the bed to see who has the nerve to interrupt.

Balthazar is standing there looking amused if nothing else, waving a stack of papers.  
“The way I see it, there is nothing wrong with you at all and I can’t keep you in here any longer. We will disregard the fact that the stitches have already healed, which is frankly as impossible as all of this. So, here are your discharge papers. I’m letting you go one night early, if only to get Cassie out of my hair. So go. Now. I’ve already reassigned the bed.”  
He drops the papers on the bedside table. Cass straight out grins up at him. “Thank you, Balthazar!” Dean just nods at the man and so does he. Huh. Maybe Cass was right and he doesn’t completely hate him. “Try not to get shot again.” And with that he’s gone.

Dean draws a bit closer so his hands can dip into the back pockets of Cass’s jeans.  
“So, I guess that means we can leave together today.” Dean smiles at him seductively. He can feel the shiver going down Cass’s body.  
“I… I guess so… shall I… uhm… call Sam to get you?”  
Apparently he has to be a bit more specific.  
“How about we let him be, he sure will appreciate havin’ another night to himself. So we get to have one too. Only if you want to invite me over that is.” Playing on confident has always been his forte but inside the suspense is killing him. He so hopes Cass will not shoot him down. Looking up he catches the man biting his kiss swollen lower lip and almost looses it then and there.

Swallowing he forces himself to look up at Cass’s eyes as he starts talking, but the startling blue is not really making it any better. How can anyone have such beautiful eyes?  
“I… I mean… yes. Yes, you are definitely invited.”  
Dean sees Cass’s eyes flitting down to his lips and instead of a reply he just leans back in to give him what he wants.

∞

The nervous energy he exudes must be almost palpable, the way his leg is jiggling and his fingers are fidgeting with a pen he found in his pocket. It has been ages since he even considered sleeping with anyone and he does not know what to do. It is not like he does not want to, he most certainly does, but this could make or break everything. At some point tonight he presumably has to have The TalkTM with Dean and depending on how he is going to react they might have to call today off. He would have to tell Dean everything. After he knows Castiel is not sure if Dean would even want him any more. He certainly couldn’t blame him if that were the case, but it would hurt. Even the thought of the possibility already hurt.

The past few days had been wonderful, freely touching and kissing Dean is like a dream come true. A lot of his inhibitions had been overcome by the realization that he did not want to miss out on this. Whatever this is they had between them. They did not yet talk about it, really. And after tonight there might even be no them any more. Castiel is going to make himself mad thinking about it. Rubbing his hand over his face he glances around the waiting area to get something else to focus on and contents himself with watching two kids, twins by the look of it, playing in the children’s area with a tired father hovering over them.

Eventually Dean joins him at the front counter, completely packed and wearing a change of clothes his brother had brought him. His presence is always a calming one for Castiel and now was no different, some tension begins to disappear the moment he lays eyes on him. But the underlying worry is still there, although the way this particular pair of jeans hugs Dean’s backside as he leans over the counter to sign the papers, gives Castiel something quite different to focus on for a moment.

The man honest to god grins at him turning around, Castiel obviously didn’t look away fast enough. He can feel the small blush on his face as Dean steps closer to catch his eyes.  
“Like what you see, angel?” Unwavering he holds his mischievous gaze.  
“Actually I do. Very much so.” No point in denying the obvious. Hopefully he will not make all of this crash and burn tonight. Reaching out to draw Dean into a tight hug he nuzzles into his neck, inhaling deeply. Dean’s smell envelops him, the deep tones of sandalwood and leather more muted now, not comparing to the scent of his skin. So rich and calming, like pure unadulterated warmth.

A sigh escapes him before he puts some distance between them again, but keeps his hands on Dean’s shoulders.  
“Ready to brave a ride in my Lincoln Continental from 1978?”  
Dean’s eyes almost pop out. “Oh my God, a pimpmobile Cass?”, he laughs. “From all the cars I pictured you driving, that would have to be one of the last ones. Jesus, I can’t wait to see this.”

Dean nearly buckled over in a fit of laughter after seeing his car, although Castiel does not quite get why it is that funny. Mildly amusing maybe, but not wheezing from laughter funny he would think.  
So a bit of a pout appears on his face as Dean cannot stop chuckling for the better part of their drive. It seems to get worse every time the man looks over at him and soon a frown joins the pout.  
“Do you think you will get over this any time soon, Dean? Or do I have to drive you back to the hospital to be treated for a manic episode?”  
That somehow appears to make it worse.

“Jeeesus Cass,… “, a wheeze “you’re sittin’ there … all serious … in a pimpmobile”, another wheeze “… all sullen and frownin’… adorably so, by the way … this is … “, wheeze “just perfect.” And he looses it again in a fit of laughter. The frown deepens and he looks at him accusingly.  
“Dean, I do not like to be made fun off.”  
One way or another Dean seems to slowly get back in control and slides closer to him, leaning over the armrest, to put his hand on Castiel’s thigh. There is still a smile on his face.  
“Cass, I’m not making fun of you, it’s just situational comedy, I swear. I like this car, really, although it could use some work. But the sight of you in it is just a bit… surreal.”  
Castiel grumbles under his breath, but the hand slowly caressing his thigh and the soft smile on his face as Dean looks at him easily dissipates his little mood.  
“I appreciate that, but if you do not want us to crash I would strongly advise to remove your hand for now.”  
Dean slowly lifts both hands in the air and puts them back on his side.  
“Okay. For now.”

Thankfully they arrive at Castiel’s house five minutes later. The moment Castiel opens his apartment door a loud concert of accusatory sounds greet them. Claire is beelining for the door and he hurriedly closes it behind them so he will not have to chase her through the whole building. Wouldn’t be the first time. Disappointed she turns first to Castiel to claim her rightful greeting of a scratch behind the ears and then to Dean, whom she looks at with interest. Dean obediently holds down his hand to let her sniff him, but as he tries to pet her too she just ducks underneath Dean to hide behind Castiel peering at him suspiciously. Dean chuckles.  
“Okay, okay, I get it, no touchy.”  
“She’ll warm up to you.” If you decide to stay for that long, a traitorous voice adds inside his head. Again, he tries to shake the thought off as he heads into the kitchen to fix them and Claire dinner. Starting with the cat of course, so she won’t bother him.

“I hope you’re not picky, I am not exactly a chef.”  
Arms come to circle him from behind, Dean’s head resting on his shoulder. The soft puffs of air next to his ear as Dean speaks, send a shiver down his spine.  
“Or you show me what you’ve got and let me make something for you. I’m an excellent cook.”  
“Hmm… I don’t think I can say no to that. But at your own peril, Claire can be a pest in the kitchen.”  
Dean simply hums and lets him step back and show him where everything is before shooing Castiel into the living room. He wants the food to be ‘a surprise’. That is just fine by him, it’s been some time that he had a real home cooked meal.

Sinking back unto the couch, he listens to Dean singing softly while working and occasionally talking to the cat. A delicious smell soon comes drifting into the room, making his stomach growl. It’s very domestic. And calm. And frighteningly comfortable. He has to remind himself that this could all be over tonight, to not get too relaxed, to trusting. But it’s almost impossible not to. He will wait until after dinner and then try to breach the subject. There is no harm in enjoying this a bit longer, just while it lasts.

It didn’t take long for Dean to come back out with two plates of steaming pasta with home-made tomato sauce and toasted bread on the side. Castiel notices that he didn’t use garlic for the bread. Another subtle reminder he just pushes away.  
“This smells amazing! I wasn’t aware I even had all the necessary ingredients for this!”  
“Actually you didn’t. Had to improvise a bit, but it’s good, trust me.”  
Castiel smiles and takes a bite, just to let Dean know that indeed, it is really good. Delicious in fact. Dean grins happily before digging in himself.

It is fascinating how Dean eats like his life depends on it, simply shoving it all in. There are red specks all around his mouth, Castiel is oddly reminded of a child. He cannot suppress the chuckle as he watches him, especially as Claire tries to steal some pasta from him. Dean just grumbles at her and holds the plate up so she can’t reach. As he hears the chuckle Dean looks at him absolutely puzzled. “Something funny Cass?”  
“All of this actually. You two look like bickering siblings.”  
That mischievous grin again. “Does that make you my Daddy, Cass?” He flutters his long eyelashes at him.  
Castiel snorts. Picking up a paper napkin from the table he leans over and wipes at the red specks of sauce around Dean’s mouth. “Now at least I feel like I am”, he says and winks.

Dean catches his wrist and plants a soft kiss on the inside of it. The touch makes his skin tingle and he shivers. God, he has got to get this more under control. Winking, Dean lets him go again and continues eating as if nothing happened. After a second Castiel returns to his plate as well and they finish their meal with the occasional interruption from a nosy cat and some companionable conversation.

Castiel opts to do the dishes so Dean stays in the living room, exploring and playing with Claire.  
“That’s quite the collection you got there, Cass”, he yells into the kitchen. “Which one’s your favourite?”  
“Book or movie?”  
“Um, now that you ask, both I guess?”  
“Movie is easier, ‘City Lights’ by Charlie Chaplin. There is no one favourite book for me, I would have to make a list.”  
He can hear a snicker from the living room. “No wonder Sam and you get along.”  
Castiel sticks his head around the corner, getting a sudden feeling about this.  
“You don’t mind, do you?” His eyes are scrunched up in a bit of worry.  
“What, you two getting’ along? No, no I don’t. I mean, smart people have to have someone equal to talk to, don’t they?” There is a lopsided grin on his face, but something about it seems not completely genuine.  
“And what makes you think that you are not one of them?” Dean lifts an eyebrow at that.  
“Come on, Cass, you know I couldn’t even follow your little talks. You guys are definitely smarter than me.”  
“I would argue that you are different smart than us. There isn’t only one kind of intelligence, Dean.”  
He huffs and grumbles a bit at that, but does not argue any further. Castiel is still curious, but guesses that there is a conversation for another time there.

After he is done, Castiel lets himself flop down on the couch next to Dean. He can feel the nervousness creeping up on him, but tries to ignore it. Maybe it is going to be different with Dean and he can postpone the talk. So much has been so very different with Dean up until now. He feels a lot safer with him than he ever has with anyone else.  
Or maybe they will just watch a movie. Turning to the man sitting next to him with a smile he starts to say “So, what do you want to -”  
Immediately he is interrupted by Dean pressing his lips to his with a fervour he hasn’t displayed up until now, robbing Castiel of his breath. It seems Dean was holding back before now.

And it feels so good. He feels wanted and needed as Dean explores his mouth, exchanging sweet saliva, licking inside him and making him moan. Dean let’s his hands roam freely, letting them glide from his face and neck down over his chest and nipples and even further down to his hips and ass, which he cups greedily with both hands. Each new place he touches tingles, igniting the fire growing in Castiel’s core even more, his excitement evident through his increasingly fast growing erection. Castiel’s hands tighten on Dean’s shoulders as he holds on for dear live.

As the initial surprise wears off Castiel begins to fight for dominance, giving as much as he is receiving. Pressing even closer to Dean, he lets his own hands wander over the toned muscles of his biceps and back, sliding them below the black t-shirt to feel the hot flesh underneath against his own skin. He can feel Dean shudder at his touch, the bulge rubbing against him as the other man shifts to get his leg between his thighs telling him that he feels it just as much as Castiel does. Oh god, he wants so much more now. Touch more, sense more, taste more of this gorgeous wonderful man.

Castiel is so lost in the sensations he just now notices that he is being pressed into the couch, lying on his back, vulnerable underneath the man on top of him. Instinct takes over and he stiffens up, starting to panic. He can’t breath. After a moment Dean seems to notice the change in his behaviour and moves back to look at Castiel, concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”  
“Dean, could you please let me back up?” His voice is cracking, his hands are twitching and it takes all that he has to not push Dean off of him immediately. As the weight is removed he starts to breath again, sitting up immediately and doing everything he can to calm down, gripping his thighs so tight that it almost hurts. A warm hand touches his back, drawing soothing circles that immediately help him relax.  
Huh. That is another new one, normally he would abhor even the thought of touch in this situation. But this is Dean. Apparently the rules do not really apply to him. Well, some of them don’t. He had really hoped that this one wouldn't.

Thankfully Dean gives him the time he needs to compose himself and patiently waits until he is ready to talk again. He sighs before lifting his head up to meet his concerned eyes.  
“I’m sorry, I should have told you earlier, but I just wanted to enjoy this a little while longer. It’s so easy to forget some things with you here and I just wanted that. Guess it caught up to me, huh?” He laughs uneasily. This is it. He has to explain now. He had offered and Dean had taken him up on it in the hospital. And now that he had reacted badly, there is no time like the present. Dean needs to know, if their budding relationship and tentative trust has to have any chance of survival.  
Dean just waits, concern still evident on his face. Looking down Castiel tries to focus on his hands instead.

“You see, uhm, I can’t, you know, uhm,… be on the bottom. …Can’t even be the one lying when there’s someone over me, actually. It’s a… trauma thing.” Deep breaths. This is something Castiel definitely does not want to talk about. But he had promised that he would tell him about Luke. Everything about Luke. Taking his time to sort out his thoughts he concentrates again on his breathing. It’s not here, it’s in the past. It will never happen again. Calm down, Castiel.

“Luke he… used me. I fell madly in love with him, which I recognise now wasn’t even love to begin with, but a kind of dependency, and he made me do things. For him. I was far too young to even understand how absolutely warped and wrong all this was. I did so many things I was not comfortable with just to appease him or get back into his good graces. Dean I … I am filthy. I am used … been used as a toy. A … sex toy. By men and women I didn’t even know. I don’t even like women that way. Luke just said to do it and I did.” His breathing shudders at the memories. He was never an active participant, but he just… let them do it. Which is just as horrible he thinks, so this makes him just as guilty.

“I got hurt more than once. But not badly enough to warrant a trip to the doctor. Until it did and my father found out. Not everything, but enough to despise me and send me away. I guess he would have done that anyway the moment he knew that I was gay. But this way was so much worse. If Anna hadn’t rushed to my side the moment I reached Columbia I probably wouldn't even be here. I have somehow come to terms with it, but I understand if you … do not want me any more. I am sure you are disgusted, right? I mean who wouldn’t be?” The laugh sounds drowned and manic the moment it leaves his mouth. Castiel didn’t even realize he is crying up until now, but sure as hell there are tears dripping to the floor. His voice is almost inaudible as he speaks again. “I’ve never told anyone besides my sister about this.” Another manic laugh escapes him. He feels so cold. Vulnerable. It has been ages since he felt it this bad, he had been working so hard to put the past behind him, shove it all away, become the man with the stone cold front he had to be and now everything comes crashing down. Truthfully cracks had begun to form the moment after he fought those people behind the bar.

Claire’s little head comes into his blurry view, looking confused, but rubbing against his leg nonetheless, purring, maybe in an attempt to soothe him.  
The hand on his back has stopped caressing him and started trembling. Castiel does not know if he has the courage to look Dean in the eye again, afraid of what he might find there. For a moment they sit in silence only broken by the clock ticking away on the wall and Claire’s purring.  
A hand slowly reaches for one of his. He can feel it tremble on top of his own. “Cass, please look at me.” Dean’s voice sounds harsh and broken.  
Reluctantly he lifts his head and is immensely surprised by the sight before him. Dean looks like he is in pain, tears also shining in his eyes, but all of this is overshadowed by the incredibly intense white hot anger Castiel can see reflected in his whole being. Instinctively he is completely sure that it is not directed at him. Dean is angry for him.  
“Cass… this isn’t fair. I am so sorry that this happened to you, but it doesn’t make you filthy or used. The only one at fault is the one who took advantage of you. Cass, you are awesome. And I… I am here for you. I’m not disgusted, I’m angry at the one who did this to you. This should never have happened.”

There is something akin to empathy in his face as Dean gathers him up in his arms, as close as he can get Castiel, the hug almost painful in it’s intensity. The tears are flowing freely down Castiel’s face, dampening Dean’s t-shirt as he nuzzles into his neck. As if an immense weight has been lifted off his shoulders he slumps against him exhausted, just letting himself be held.  
The ugly voice in his head isn’t gone, but it has been silenced for now by Dean’s words.

Castiel has no idea what he did to deserve this man holding him so fiercely. Nothing would be the obvious answer and yet here he is.  
He does not know how much time passes, but eventually Dean slightly loosens the embrace without letting go. Castiel can feel smiling lips brushing against his ear before Dean presses a soft kiss on his temple. And right next to Castiel’s ear he says,  
“Besides, you know, for you… I don’t mind bottoming. Not at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, one down, Idk how many to go (I'm not that good at planning ahead).  
> But I hope you enjoyed yourself thus far, so let me know!  
> I will try to post a chapter every other week, but don't be too mad if I don't make it, I am trying pinky promise.


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